Firelight
by VilyaSage
Summary: After a crippling battle, Ephraim and the army struggle to find help before more lives are lost. Imprisoned and told her brother is dead, Eirika executes a plan for her own escape...running across a very old friend. EirikaSeth, EphraimTana
1. Shadows Descend

**Firelight**

A/N: Welcome! I guess all I can say is that I hope you enjoy this! For those of you who hunt for pairings, they become evident much farther in, but they are there, I promise. At any rate, read on!

**Chapter One: Shadows Descend**

"You have to promise me, Tana."

"I can't!"

"You're my best friend." The voice of the Princess of Renais was exactly that, a royal voice. It didn't seem to belong to the Eirika that Tana knew best. "There's no one I can trust with this but you. Please promise me."

Tana sighed. The look in Eirika's eyes was grave. Warm wind blew in through the open door of what remained of Jehanna Hall, blowing the Pegasus knight's hair into her eyes. She pushed it away with one hand, turning her gaze downward.

"What if something happens to me, Eirika? Or worse, to you?"

Eirika made a face. "You're starting to sound like General Seth." She met Tana's eyes again, grinning. "Stop it. You'll be fine. Just stay away from anyone with a bow."

"Like Innes."

"_Exactly_." They laughed. Eirika had to laugh to herself, too, at the strangeness of it all. There was a battlefield forming outside, and here inside the door of a burning palace, she and her friend were giggling together. It was so completely out of the ordinary…and yet this kind of situation was growing more and more common.

Someone in the doorway cleared his throat. Blushing, Eirika turned around quickly, turning an even brighter pink when she realized it was Innes himself standing in the doorway.

"Are you coming?" he asked shortly. He held his bow in one hand, and an arrow was already ready in the other. "We're nearly surrounded. We're going to have to fight our way through."

Eirika hurried outside, all embarrassment forgotten. Tana followed after her, whistling for Achaeus and practically leaping onto the back of the Pegasus as he landed before her.

Eirika ran until she stood just behind Seth, who was talking quietly with Saleh and Gerik, presumably about strategy. Squinting into the light of the high sun, she could see many, many Grado troops around them. There was a cluster of them near the oasis that rested west of Jehanna Hall, and an even larger group—she was sorely tempted to think _battalion_—southeast of the ruined palace.

"Princess," Seth said quietly. She noticed he had already drawn his sword. "We are surrounded."

"Innes told me. Any suggestions?" Between the four of them and Innes, they usually worked out a decent strategy. Eirika hated battles, hated fighting, hated killing, but she did too much of all of it not to know something about strategy. They were _so_ _close_ to Ephraim now—only days from the center of the Grado Empire. It frustrated Eirika that they were waylaid, let alone in such an impossible situation as this.

"We could draw them toward us in groups," suggested Gerik, running one hand over his chin thoughtfully. "It would be easier to deal with several small groups than one large one."

"Suppose they don't advance?" asked Saleh. "They're more than capable of waiting us out."

"Seth will feel obligated to point out that he thinks we should do what's safest," Eirika added dryly. "I just saved him the trouble. I see a lot of troops, but it's not like we haven't handled large numbers before. I think we can handle this too." Her hand fell to the hilt of her sword; she both anticipated and dreaded the battle to come. "Someone tell Natasha and L'Arachel to grab extra staves."

"Staffs," offered Saleh quietly.

"I'm never going to win that argument," Eirika returned with a shake of her head. "Find Lute and Artur and tell them to back up the cavaliers, and have Ewan cover Amelia. We'll head south." With a respectful nod, Saleh turned and headed off. "Gerik, take Marisa, Joshua, Dozla and Garcia and move south around the western group. Actually, tell L'Arachel and Rennac to go with you, too, and Tana and Innes. The rest of us will head south for the larger group."

This left Eirika alone with Seth. They looked at each other, and eventually Seth's eyes wandered to Eirika's bracelet. "You shouldn't wear that so openly, Princess. It's far too valuable."

"Seth…" Eirika shook her head. "You never think of anything but my safety. Not even your own."

"You are my first priority, as always, Princess. Your father—"

"King Fado is dead, Seth," she whispered. She might have wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by a cry from behind her and a sudden movement from the troops to the west. Gerik, Innes and Tana all turned to look at her. With a wave toward the advancing line, she shouted, "Go!"

The rest of her allies gathered around her, with Seth to one side and Saleh on the other. Behind her she heard the hooves of Forde and Kyle, and behind _them_ were Lute and Artur, arguing as usual. Natasha and Franz stood to the other side of Seth, and Amelia and Ewan moved close to Saleh. Somewhere behind the quarreling magic wielders were Colm, Neimi, Ross, Vanessa, Gilliam, Tethys and Cormag. Thinking of them all as a group like that, Eirika realized she had quite the small army on her hands.

Something shadowed the sun for a moment. As it passed, Eirika shaded her eyes and watched it land—it was some kind of flying animal. Not a Pegasus…no, it was a wyvern. But surely not Cormag…

Eirika felt her stomach tighten, though she couldn't be certain why. She watched the descending wyvern for a moment longer before her mind caught up with her instincts. It was Valter.

Eirika drew her sword. She hated fighting, but she had seen that vile man send monstrous spiders chasing after an innocent little girl and her family. He had murdered Cormag's brother in cold blood. He had given Seth an injury that bothered him still, refusing to heal. He wanted nothing but power and glory. He was _vile_. She _hated_ him, more than she hated to fight.

"Let's go," she said to her troops, taking a purposeful step forward. "Nobody touch the wyvern knight. He's _mine_."

* * *

Eirika's sword found its mark, piercing the armor of another of Valter's troops. As the enemy fell, Forde and Kyle raced by on either side of her, lances ready. She got a quick look at them as they passed; Forde was grinning wildly, enjoying himself, and even Kyle was almost smiling.

The other cavaliers they were charging didn't stand a chance. Their complex pattern of turns and weaves almost always threw the enemy entirely off course. They were exact opposites in personality, but they made an excellent team.

Eirika had no more time for contemplation as a line of enemy wyvern riders began to move toward her. Raising her sword, she prepared for the attack.

"Now, Neimi!" At Colm's command, the archer let fly an arrow. It struck home, bringing down one of the wyverns. The rider jumped from his dying mount and landed hard on the ground. Eirika turned to look behind her. Colm stood in front of Neimi, a mischievous fire in his eyes, while from behind him she fired arrow after arrow at the approaching wyverns.

"Princess, look out!" Franz's voice alerted her to the unhorsed wyvern rider, who was charging her with his lance. She ducked out of the way of that initial thrust, but her own return strike was blocked. For several seconds they traded blows, until the sharp point of the lance scored a gash across Eirika's leg. She dropped to one knee, and Colm leapt, diving at the wyvern rider with such speed that the enemy had no time to defend.

Eirika sheathed her sword, realizing that the thief and the archer had it under control. She was almost glad for the respite; all of them had been fighting constantly for nearly an hour. The western group seemed to be nearly done, from what Eirika had been able to tell by squinting through the glare of the desert sun, and she hoped they would be able to rejoin the main group soon. The enemy was constantly calling on reinforcements.

_Valter_. The thought of his name drove the pain of her gash from her mind. He would pay for the things he had done, and she was going to see to that herself. She rose quickly and hit her knees again just as fast, pain flooding her left leg.

Something landed in the sand beside her, followed by a less heavy something. Franz had dismounted and was holding out his hands to help her up. She took them, pulling herself to her feet and leaning most of her weight against him. The less heavy thing, Natasha, had been riding on the back of Franz's horse. She held out her staff, and it charged with light. The light shifted itself to Eirika, who shifted _herself_ onto both feet again as the gash in her leg closed.

"Thank you," she said with a smile as Franz got back on his horse and pulled Natasha up behind him. "Be careful in all this sand, Franz. Your horse could hurt itself."

"That's why I ride around with Natasha," he replied, grinning. The cleric smiled too, hesitantly. "Besides, Joshua can't carry her on his back." With a wider grin and a little wave, Franz drew his sword again and rode off.

West of Jehanna Hall, Innes and Joshua were working to finish off the strongest members of the western cluster. Observing them, Rennac had to comment to himself that they would probably be done by now if the sniper and the myrmidon would just work _together_. Instead the forces were split in two, with both myrmidons, Garcia and Gerik on one side, and Innes, his sister, Dozla and Rennac himself on the other. L'Arachel was making trips between the two as she was needed, trying to stay away from their enemies at the same time.

When the two groups finally broke through to each other, only the hero Caellach and his two guardian mages remained. The mages hurried forward, throwing Fire and Thunder spells as they advanced. The myrmidons were fast enough to dodge the spells, and neither anima ability could faze Dozla much. Garcia did his best to avoid them, but he was hit with a double barrage of fire and thrown backwards across the sand. L'Arachel raced after him, and Rennac took the opening to duck beneath a spell and slash right through the spine of the nearest mage's magical tome.

Innes was right behind him, firing off an arrow that dropped the mage himself, but the Prince of Frelia followed him, dropping to the sand as Caellach hit him over the head with his large shield. Rennac knew he couldn't handle Caellach alone. Seeing the other mage nearby, he took off. Better to be roasted a bit and be victorious than to be sliced into tiny pieces and lose. Caellach turned to follow the rogue, but was waylaid by a pair of myrmidons darting around him, moving in with quick strikes and then falling back, out of his reach.

Tana noticed Joshua and Marisa's distractions and took the opportunity, telling Achaeus to bring them low. Raising her lance, Tana waited until she was sure of her aim. When she was close enough, she threw the lance like a javelin. It found the spot between the plates of Caellach's armor and lodged there. Tana didn't even watch him fall—she was kneeling in the sand beside Innes, who was slowly waking up again.

The myrmidons stopped at the exact same time, leaving just enough room between them for L'Arachel to pass as she returned with Garcia. The princess of Rausten looked less than happy to be sharing a ride with the fighter. She dumped him off rather unceremoniously before riding to where Tana and Innes were now standing. The sniper gave her a cold stare.

"Prince Innes!" she said half-breathlessly, holding up her staff with one hand. "Please, allow me—"

"I'm fine." He waved away her offer, stepping away from Tana's hold and picking up his fallen bow. "Tana, get your lance and let's go. I see more reinforcements coming and Eirika is going to need our help."

Tana looked down. Her lance was still stuck through Caellach's armor, and he was dead. She really didn't feel like trying to get it back.

"More reinforcements!" Aside from being singed at the edges, Rennac was the perfect cross between shocked and delicately ill. "This is insane."

"That's what makes it fun, lad," Dozla said with a large grin, lifting his heavy axe with both hands. He looked like he was about to charge. He also looked like he would enjoy a charge immensely.

"Lad?" Rennac asked weakly; Innes had already turned and was striding away, with Joshua and Marisa right behind him. The rest of the rogue's protest died before he could speak it, and Dozla clapped him on the shoulder with one hand before heading off himself, talking animatedly with Garcia.

Recovering from almost sprawling face first into the sand, Rennac cast his glare on L'Arachel, the only person left nearby whom he could reasonably blame for all this. Oblivious to him as always, she only smiled in a decidedly noble-to-commoner way and rode forward. Rolling his eyes, Rennac trudged behind her.

Tana was still staring at her lance. She reached for it, then froze again, just staring at her hand. After a moment, and with a small sigh, she pulled her lance free and got back on Achaeus.

"I hope you knew what you were doing," she muttered as her Pegasus soared skyward.

* * *

"I hope you know what you're doing!" It was a playful remark, one designed to make its intended target smile. The battle had been going on for a long time now—it felt like hours.

"I know what I'm doing." Lute's answer was short and matter-of-fact, for Lute. "I have studied extensively. I've read more books on magic than there are enemies in this desert, if you will permit me to be straightforward. I know what you're doing. You're thinking of going after the shaman approaching Forde and Kyle. If you really think you should try, use your most powerful light magic. You don't have the power that I do. I know what—" She was cut short by a kick in the head. Artur, who by now regretted ever trying to make conversation with the mage, hid a sigh of relief as he looked at the cause of Lute's sudden drop.

Tethys covered her satisfied smirk with one hand, attempting to look surprised. "Oops. How clumsy of me." Artur caught himself smirking back, and Tethys laughed, heading back toward where Gerik, Gilliam and Vanessa were handing a wave of mercenaries.

Artur looked down at Lute, stunned in the sand, still conscious but not really aware enough to do more than stare up at the sky. After a long moment, he tried again. "You okay?"

"Mmmm." Lute blinked. Artur couldn't tell if that was a yes, a no, or some sort of intellectual death threat. With a sigh born from guilt, he offered a hand to the younger mage, who took it and pulled herself up.

"Lute?" Artur asked, now more worried that he was about to be flash-fried than that Lute was really hurt. She stared back at him for a very long moment.

"Artur," she said finally. "Hi."

Forde rode by them then, in pursuit of a mounted enemy. Kyle came at the opposing cavalier from the opposite direction, lance ready. Forde had switched his lance for a sword midway through the battle, and was trying to catch up to the enemy before his and Kyle's charge turned into a deadly jousting match.

"Forde!" Kyle yelled, though the red-armored cavalier showed no sign of having heard him. "Fool. He'll get himself skewered!" Kyle urged his horse into a faster charge, hoping to take the onrushing cavalier by surprise.

He was spared the effort as a charging Franz knocked the enemy off his horse. The animal veered wildly to the left, and the rider hit the sand and rolled. Forde, caught up and waving his sword almost wildly, struck the enemy as he tried to get back up. He fell again and did not rise.

Forde halted his charge and grinned at Franz and Kyle. The former grinned back, not afraid to be a bit unprofessional around his older brother. The latter just stared, arms folded.

"Oh, come on, Kyle." Still grinning, the cavalier sheathed his sword. "We have to fight the battle no matter what, let's at least have some fun with it."

"Suddenly it's fun to take lives." Kyle turned and, as much as he could while on horseback, stalked off across the sand. Forde and Franz looked at each other for a moment before Franz rode off to pick up Natasha again. Forde sighed, then turned and rode off in the other direction.

He found Cormag and the little mage whose name he couldn't remember first. The wyvern rider was flying all over the place, dodging arrows fired by an enemy ranger. The little mage, Ewan, was doing his best to help out, but every time he shot a burst of fire at the ranger, he would just ride out of the way and shoot an arrow at Ewan. To his credit, the mage was determinedly ignoring the arrow already sprouting from his left shoulder.

While the ranger took aim at Ewan again, Cormag took advantage of the opening and dove, lance ready. The ranger turned suddenly, and the arrow streaked through the air toward Cormag's wyvern instead. Forde couldn't see where the missile hit, but wyvern and rider were tumbling through the air. They hit the ground hard enough to raise a cloud of dust.  
Forde urged his horse into a charge, hoping to get close enough to the ranger to be too close to hit. Ewan was providing a good distraction, though he was slower with every step, and his dodges were more luck than ability.

The ranger spotted Forde and turned to bolt out of range, but the cavalier was too close. He drew his sword and charged on. Within minutes, the ranger had been dealt with. Sheathing the sword again, Forde rode over to Ewan and pulled the boy up behind him.

"Thanks," mumbled the young mage, hanging onto the cavalier's armor with one hand and trying not to flinch as the motion of riding jarred his injured arm. Forde headed straight for where he had seen Cormag fall, though he was almost afraid of what he might find. The wyvern rider had been up _high_.

Cormag thought himself very lucky. He was still alive. He decided he must have fallen from Genarog shortly before hitting the ground, because one of the wyvern's wings was on top of him. He was on his stomach in the sand, still holding tight to his lance.

He wanted to just stay there, but he knew he couldn't. Genarog had been shot, and he had to do something. He heard a rider approaching, and fought even harder to rise and face this new enemy. He wasn't great with a lance on foot, but he was passable, and he wasn't about to let himself just be killed.

The rider stopped just short of him, though he couldn't lift his head to see more than the horse's legs. A sudden wind from his other side had him trying to roll, to see who was there, but that just made him dizzy. In the next instant two sets of arms were pulling him to his feet, two people supporting him between them.

"Cormag?" He raised his head and looked toward the voice. Tana was on his right, caught between smiling and looking worried. "I did tell you I'd watch for you."

"A bit late, though," said Forde from his other side. "Can you stand?" This he directed at Cormag, who took a long moment to process the words before giving his best attempt at a shrug.

"What happened?" Tana asked, looking over her shoulder at Genarog. "Cormag! He's been shot!"

"They fell from the sky," Forde said quietly, looking at the fallen wyvern almost sadly. "I'm surprised either of them is alive."

"Alive?" Cormag asked, the first coherent thing he'd been able to do yet. He felt his hand drop his lance, and he pushed away from Tana and Forde, stumbling and staggering over to Genarog, who lowered his head down to the level of his rider. Cormag held up his hand, and the wyvern touched his head to it, then licked it.

"Looks alive to me," Forde muttered, going back to his horse and digging through his saddlebag. "Oh, come on, I have one in here…Seth's too stuffy to even let us _out_ if we're not carrying everything…ah!"

"What are you _doing_, Forde?" asked Ewan, still sitting on Forde's horse. Reaching up, Forde pulled the boy down. Ewan looked surprised at this, and even more shocked as the arrow was plucked from his shoulder. He was, for a moment, too stunned to say anything, especially when Forde handed him a full glass bottle.

"Drink it, and get back on. Tana!" The Pegasus knight looked over, and Forde waved. "We're going to find…someone with a staff! You stay here!" When she nodded to him, Forde climbed back up on his horse. Noticing Ewan's struggle to join him, the cavalier lifted him on. "Keep your eyes open for anyone with a staff handy." Ewan's reply was a resolute salute.

"Come on, Cormag," Tana said, ignoring her annoyance at constantly being left behind. "We can't just stay here. We're too vulnerable."

"I'm not leaving Genarog." Cormag was sitting in front of the wyvern now, and he wasn't about to go anywhere. Whether or not it was because he couldn't get up wasn't something he was about to volunteer.

* * *

"This looks bad." He shaded his eyes with one hand, lance held firmly in the other.

"Agreed." The heavily armored horse stood beside him, its equally armored rider gripping a large, silver axe. "What do you want to do?"

"I see her," he replied, turning to the shaman on his other side. "Knoll, you come with me. Duessel, head toward where that archer is standing. Don't let anything beat you."

"Never, Prince Ephraim." Duessel rode off, leaving Ephraim to move as quickly as he could toward his sister. Knoll followed close behind him, firing off the occasional flux spell to ward off any enemy troops.

Eirika was in the thick of it, her sword and speed combined to counter every enemy attack with three of her own. Seth was a few yards away, dealing with a group of cavaliers and the troubadour behind them, and Saleh was on her other side, his spells holding off a trio of wyvern riders.

One of them descended on Eirika, who dove out of the way, rolling through the sand and springing up the strike at the beast's underside. She scored a line along it, but wyvern and rider soared upward again, preparing for another dive. Raising her sword again, Eirika stared in silence as it snapped off near the hilt.

Saleh and Seth both noticed this, but both were too far away and too occupied to be able to reach her in time. She raised what remained of her sword to defend herself against the oncoming wyvern rider, knowing it probably wouldn't be enough. A blur of blue and red stopped in front of her. Descending and upraised lances met with a clang.

Finishing the startled wyvern rider quickly, Ephraim turned and grinned at his sister. "You always did like getting in trouble."

"Ephraim!" Eirika found it hard to resist the urge to throw her arms around him. She settled for taking hold of both of his shoulders. "You're still alive!"

"Of course I am. Listen, Eirika, there are important things I have to tell you."

"We don't have much time, Ephraim. There's a battle going on."

"I know. But it's about Grado, about why they attacked Renais—" A shadow passed over them both, and they looked up to see another, larger wyvern descending toward them.

"How wonderful," sneered a cold voice. "Brother and sister, reunited at long last. Pity it all has to end so soon."

"Princess!" Seth's voice rang out, and Eirika turned, catching the replacement sword that was flying through the air. The familiar hilt of her own rapier settled in her hands, and she turned to face the rider of the large wyvern.

"_Valter_," she spat, and the wyvern knight laughed.

"I've waited so long for this day, Princess," he said casually, cold eyes meeting her fiery ones in an intense glare. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to be able to deal with your brother, too."

"You won't touch him." Eirika's voice was a low hiss, and she advanced step by step towards Valter, with Ephraim coming more slowly behind her. "You will leave now. Or you will die."

"Such strong words, Princess. They don't belong in the head of a noble girl like you. When I have you, things will be different."

Valter moved almost too fast for her to see. A dozen wyvern riders descended from the sky behind him, half headed for Seth, the other half for Saleh. Valter himself aimed straight at Eirika, who stabbed with her rapier, piercing through his armor at the hip.

"Foolish girl!" he cried, bringing his lance toward her. She dodged, but not before the edge of the lance caught the side of her face, leaving a long, shallow gash. Evading another strike, Eirika leapt, her rapier giving Valter a nearly identical mark. At the last second he flinched, and the rapier's path turned to trace across his left eye.

Valter screamed, and his wyvern went wild. Eirika had a moment to be satisfied with herself before the wyvern's tail slammed into her. She hit the ground hard, winded and stunned. Ephraim ran at the wyvern knight, his lance spinning in preparation for a solid strike. At the same time, Valter seemed to regain himself, and drove his own lance forward.

"Ephraim!" He heard Eirika's voice shout his name. He could see, dimly, Valter giving him a victorious smirk. He felt it, distantly, as the Moonstone tugged his lance free. Ephraim fell to the sand, only barely aware of what had happened. His lance dropped beside him. He, too, had a satisfied moment—Valter's blood stained the point—before losing consciousness.

"Ephraim!" Eirika screamed it again. She was on her feet, charging at Valter, ignoring warning cries from Seth, from Saleh, and from the others who had drawn nearer upon seeing this final conflict.

"How good of you to come willingly, Princess!" Valter turned his lance in his hand, driving the blunt end at her. She blocked it once, but the second strike knocked the wind out of her again, and the third caught her in the temple. She slumped over the shaft of his lance, unconscious. Valter laughed.

Seth finished the last of the wyvern riders with the help of the shaman who had arrived with Ephraim. He looked up again to see Valter rising into the air, Eirika's limp form draped across the saddle in front of him. He called to her, but all this did was make Valter laugh harder.

The remaining enemy troops began to retreat, leaving the battle with their lives and joining their leader in his flight. Innes fired arrow after arrow at Valter in his flight, but not a single one found its mark. Tana and Vanessa attempted to rush him, but they were both knocked aside by the other wyvern riders.

Valter laughed again, flying even higher, but careful not to dislodge his prize. He looked down at her still form, whispering. "With you and your bracelet, Princess, it will all be mine." He turned slightly in the direction of the setting sun, signaled to his troops, and disappeared.

* * *

He felt the heat first. It was overpowering, and there was barely any breeze at all. His armor made the heat worse…but he wasn't wearing his armor. He couldn't feel its heaviness. He wasn't holding his lance, either, though he had a very satisfying memory of watching it punch through Valter's armor.

_Valter_…_Eirika!_ Ephraim opened his eyes with a gasp, and two concerned faces looked back at him. After a long moment and several attempts, he spoke.

"General Seth."

"Prince Ephraim," Seth replied formally.

"Nice to have you with us again," said a voice—Duessel's voice—from somewhere else. Ephraim almost smiled, both at Seth's formality and Duessel's relaxed attitude, but thoughts of Eirika and waves of pain stopped him.

"Something has to be done," said Kyle's voice. Ephraim moved to get up, but more hands than he really wanted to count reached out to push him back down.

"You're lucky to even be living," said the second person he could see. It was someone he didn't recognize, but this man—a mage of some kind—had been fighting near Eirika when Valter had attacked. "If I were you, I'd enjoy that for a while before thinking about standing."

Ephraim sighed, staring up at the cloudless sky above him. It was darkening now, the sun was setting. They were losing time.

"We have to go after Eirika," he said, closing his eyes again as another wave of pain silenced him. When he opened his eyes, Seth nodded.

"Of course, Prince Ephraim. Princess Tana has gone to determine their direction."

"We're _going_ after them," Ephraim growled, fighting to get up again.

"Alright, look." A man with bright red hair drifted into Ephraim's field of vision. "Natasha's nice and quiet, but I really wouldn't put it past her to start swinging that staff if you keep being uncooperative. And Saleh there won't be above knocking you back out either."

The second man looking at Ephraim—Saleh, he supposed—frowned at the redhead. "I _am_ above it, Joshua."

"Well…L'Arachel isn't, then."

"You won't have to worry about it anyway," said a pleasant female voice from somewhere near his head. The redhead said something else, but Ephraim couldn't tell what it was. He was nearly out again when he heard something hit the ground, and Tana's voice called out to them.

"He's headed for Renais!"

"Of course," said Seth grimly. "He's after the Stone."

* * *

Didn't go quite the way they planned, did it? Your thoughts?


	2. Day Breaks

**Firelight**

A/N: Well. That was a...less-than-welcome reception. But, so it goes. Anyway, enjoy this next chapter! (I posted early for you, Griff!)

**Chapter Two: Day Breaks**

Seth sat in front of the fire, staring into it with customary focus but unusual intensity. Across from him, Forde wondered if he shouldn't point out that it was standard for heroic types who were deep in thought to be lost in the flames of a campfire. After repeating himself a few times, he figured Seth just wasn't listening.

Hearing soft footsteps, Forde looked up and saw Cormag and Gilliam approaching. Following even more silently behind them was Rennac, who took a seat to Forde's left and proceeded to eat a plate full of food. It reminded Forde of how hungry he was, but he was too tired to get up and eat.

Cormag sat on Forde's other side, with Gilliam beside him. "How's Genarog?" Forde asked, noting that the wyvern rider still limped and staggered. It was entirely too likely that the staves were out of charges, as they had been short on them when the battle began.

"Irritated," Cormag replied with a tired smile. "He didn't like that we couldn't redeem ourselves on that ranger. But he'll get over it." Beside him, Gilliam made a noise that was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.

"They call you Gilliam the Silent, you know," Forde attempted. Gilliam turned to look at him.

"Mmm."

"…And I can see why. At least you live up to your title." Forde sighed again and went back to watching Seth watch the fire. He wondered what the Silver Knight was thinking about.

He didn't wonder at all, really. The only thing in recent days that put Seth in such strong moods was the princess. Neither heiress nor paladin thought it was noticeable, but they were certainly a conversation topic, at least among the cavaliers.

They were joined at the fire by Vanessa and Innes, both of whom looked like they'd rather be sleeping; there just wasn't room. The army, as they were, had taken shelter in an abandoned fortress, but the building was small, meant for protection more than comfort. Those in the worst conditions had been given the rooms that served best as bedrooms. The rest of them seemed to be slowly trickling out to the fire Franz and Ewan had started, out in the largest room.

"Prince Innes," said Gilliam formally. "Where is Princess Tana?"

Innes scowled, but it lasted only a second before his face resumed its usual slight frown. "With Ephraim."

"Ah." Gilliam paused for a very long moment. "How is he?"

"Last I checked…he was annoyed."

"He thinks we should leave for Renais now," Vanessa said, frowning at Innes' lack of elaboration. "He wants to go after Eirika. I think we all do." At the mention of Eirika, Seth had looked up from the fire, but he had almost immediately resumed his staring.

"It's not possible," Cormag argued, crossing his arms. "Half the army can't even stand, let alone make the trip to Renais."

"Present company included," Forde added, rather darkly. "I don't think I could take three steps without falling over."

"Half the army is around the fire," Innes returned sharply. "I don't know why some of us couldn't go, and wait for the rest."

"Valter is after the Sacred Stone of Renais." Seth's voice was low, almost a whisper. The fire crackled louder than he spoke. "In order to reach it, he needs the bracelets worn by both Prince Ephraim and Princess Eirika. He has one. Any attempt on our part to rescue her will likely succeed, but it will be at the risk of losing the other bracelet to Grado."

"General Seth." Vanessa's tone asked for approval.

"Vanessa."

"Have you considered the possibility that once Valter has Eirika's bracelet, he will no longer have need of her?"

"It has. I doubt that will happen." Seth's face was grim, and the firelight didn't make it look much better. "If Ephraim doesn't have the emotional ties to draw him to Renais, he may make the rational choice and stay far away, out of Grado's reach. But Prince Ephraim isn't thinking rationally right now."

"The people of Renais have been through so much already," said Gilliam, almost sadly.

"Vanessa, did Natasha or L'Arachel say when they think we'll be able to leave?" Cormag asked. The Pegasus knight shrugged.

"If I know L'Arachel, and unfortunately I do, she's just as ready to go as Ephraim." Rennac grimaced, putting down his plate and shaking his head. "From a professional standpoint, we probably should wait another day or so."

"What kind of professional standpoint, exactly?" Innes asked sourly.

"Mine."

"Yours!"

"Good, you're catching on." This was more sarcasm than usual for even Rennac, and he stood before he dug himself in any deeper with the Prince of Frelia. "Evening." He slipped away to one of the darker corners of the large room to sleep. Forde desperately wanted to follow him.

It wasn't long before the cavalier dropped off right there beside the fire.

* * *

Ephraim was awake again. He could tell mostly because being awake hurt more than being asleep. Still, there was light making its presence known through his closed eyes this time. Light meant the sun was up, and daybreak meant the possibility of leaving. 

He opened one eye, looking around slowly. Natasha was asleep nearby, closer to the far wall, and Kyle and Tana were sitting on either side of the door, dead to the world. He noticed Knoll, too, curled up in a corner. Standing at the single small window of the room was a short, redheaded boy.

"Oh, hello," the boy said, noticing Ephraim was awake. "Should I wake Natasha?"

"No, let her sleep." Ephraim forced himself to half-sit up, ignoring the dizziness. "She probably needs it."

"Yeah. Everyone's tired, after yesterday." The boy sighed, rubbing his shoulder. "You hungry? Neimi, Franz and Dozla are making breakfast, and it smells wonderful from the hall."

Mildly surprised, Ephraim noticed he _was_ hungry, and thirsty as well. "I would love some breakfast," he said, smiling at the thought. "I don't want to make you bring it to me, though. I'll go get it when it's ready."

"Ambitious of you, Prince." The sage, Saleh, stood in the doorway, the barest hint of a smile on his face. "I see Ewan's been…keeping you company."

"He only just woke up, Master Saleh. I didn't do it." The boy—Ewan—grinned and stepped back toward the window. "It does look like a beautiful day outside."

"Speak quietly, Ewan. Everyone else here is still sleeping." Saleh regarded Ephraim for a moment, then seemed to shrug. "If you want to join us for breakfast, you're welcome to, of course. If not, I'll send Ewan back with something for you. Let's go, Ewan." The little mage hurried out of the room ahead of Saleh, racing to get to the food first.

Ephraim sighed. He knew he could certainly _try_ to get all the way to the fire, and breakfast. He just didn't know if he would succeed. He was mostly sitting up—and regretting it—when both Kyle and Tana stirred. Kyle was up first, though he looked around, once standing, like the room had perhaps deserted him in the middle of the night and become somewhere else. Tana spent a few seconds more on the ground, waiting to get to her feet until she remembered where she might be.

"Ephraim!" she said almost loudly. Kyle raised a hand in an attempt to get her to be quiet—he had seen Knoll and Natasha, still asleep—but she wasn't paying him any attention. "Why didn't you wake us?"

"I doubt he wanted to be shouted at this early," Kyle muttered, leaning back against the wall. "I'm certain the others don't." By this point, Tana had also seen the sleeping shaman and cleric, and her voice fell to a more normal level.

"I'm sorry. I was just…worried, I guess…"

"About Eirika?" Ephraim asked, effectively offering Tana a way out. In all honesty, _he_ was worried about his sister, too. And he knew that the more he could keep Tana's mind away from him, the sooner she might leave and let him make his attempt on breakfast.

"Yes, of course, but she can take care of herself." Kyle raised an eyebrow at the note of uncertainty in the Pegasus knight's voice. "I was more worried about you."

Ephraim put all his effort into a smile. "Well, nothing to worry about. Saleh came in a little while ago to let me know there's breakfast waiting out at the fire for us." Kyle looked steadily at Ephraim for a few seconds, then nodded once, slowly. He walked out of the room, leaving Tana staring after him. She looked annoyed.

Ephraim sighed. He knew he had to think of something, especially before either Natasha or Knoll woke up, too. "You're not going to join him? You must be hungry."

"I'll wait and eat with you, Ephraim," Tana replied, still glaring at Kyle's retreating back. "You're probably hungry too." She looked at him, her expression softening. "I'll go get it for you if you want."

"Oh, no, that's…I mean…I'm not really hungry right now, Tana." Inwardly, he groaned at his words. Still, it was the best he could come up with. He was growing steadily more distracted by the effort of sitting up. "You go ahead and eat. I'll let someone know if I get hungry."

"…Are you sure?" Tana looked down the narrow hall, then back at Ephraim.

"Of course I'm sure. You go eat…" Ephraim's smile widened a bit. He had found his solution. "Achaeus is probably hungry, too, isn't he? He worked just as hard as we did yesterday."

"Oh! You're right!" She practically flew down the hall, towards the fire and her Pegasus. Ephraim laughed quietly for a second, stopping when it started to hurt. It didn't seem fair to use Tana's Pegasus against her, but he was losing precious time. Between Knoll being a rather light sleeper and Ephraim himself losing energy by the second, he didn't know how much luck he was going to have.

Still, he had to try it. He sat up the rest of the way, waiting a long moment for the dizziness to fade. He took a quick look at the two who slept across the room. Satisfied that they were still asleep, he shifted to his knees.

Sharp pain caught him in the stomach, and he fell back again, hoping his sudden gasp hadn't woken anyone. When the pain had diminished enough for him to look around the room, he sighed in relief. They both slept still.

He hadn't gone unnoticed, however. "Prince Ephraim," said a low, worn voice. He looked to the doorway; Duessel nearly filled it. "A valiant attempt."

"You wouldn't expect anything less of me," Ephraim replied, quite content to just sit now. Here was perhaps the one person he wouldn't mind asking to bring him breakfast.

"No, though I do expect a bit more common sense." Duessel's smile belied the tone of his words, and Ephraim grinned. "Vanessa flew out again about an hour ago, to see if she could find anything. Is he truly after the Stone of Renais?"

"Yes," Ephraim said darkly, his face hardening into a scowl. "I heard a little more about what he's put Eirika and her army here through, while the three of us were wandering around. Kyle was more than happy to supply me with the information."

"And?"

"He's inhuman."

"I assume you don't mean Sir Kyle."

"No, I don't, but don't let him hear you call him Sir anything. He'll start in again with how I shouldn't be on the front line in a battle, the way he did last night." Ephraim shook his head. "I honestly don't care right now whether Vanessa finds anything or not. We need to get to Renais."

"You know that. I know that. The girl out there waving the staff around and ranting about vanquishing certainly knows it. But the rest of your sister's army…"

"Isn't so certain we should leave just yet," finished Saleh from the doorway. "Good morning again, Prince."

"Please, just Ephraim. You don't go around calling Eirika 'Princess,' do you?" Ephraim almost regretted asking that. He was afraid the answer might be yes.

"Not many of us, no." Saleh slipped past Duessel, looking once around the room before returning his gaze to Ephraim. "Decided not to join us after all?" The shadow of a smirk appeared on his face. "I asked Ewan to bring you a plate."

"Good. I'm famished." Ephraim turned back to Duessel, recounting for him bits and pieces of what Kyle had told him about Valter. Saleh listened for a moment or two before crossing the room to Natasha and Knoll. He knelt and gently shook the cleric's shoulder. When he was certain she was awake, he did the same for the shaman, who woke with a start. He let out a quick breath when he recognized Saleh.

"Don't _do_ that," Knoll grumbled irritably.

"He's just not a morning person," Ephraim called. Ewan had run in only seconds before with a plate full of food and some water. He had run out again immediately, looking almost relieved. Ephraim would have said something, but he was too busy eating.

"You're awake, Prince Ephraim?" Natasha asked sleepily. "How do you feel?"

"Hungry," he said between bites. Duessel laughed heartily, heading out the door again with a wave. "I missed most of the action last night, I presume. Everyone else is standing but me?"

"Cormag won't be getting off the ground for a while."

"I'm not sure you could call what he was doing 'standing,' either." This voice was Franz's. "No, I'm not coming in, just passing by. I feel bad for Amelia, all beat up and having to spend the night with L'Arachel." He left with a grin.

"Colm and Ross aren't much better off than Amelia," Saleh added, shaking his head. "You aren't the only reason we're averse to leaving."

"We _have_ to." Ephraim was finished eating, and all he really wanted to do next was sleep, but this was more important. "I don't want that scum anywhere _near_ my sister."

"You shouldn't go anywhere." Natasha's voice was soft, almost as though she didn't want to be heard, and yet she did.

"It's obvious what your wishes are," Knoll argued, a hard edge in his voice. "I vote with you, Ephraim. We should head to Renais."

"If it's a vote…everyone should. Vote, I mean." Ephraim could feel the fog of sleep fighting its way into his head again. He knew he wasn't making much audible sense. "So…go ask."

"Of course." With a nod, Saleh walked through the doorway, leaving Knoll and Natasha—now openly on opposing sides of the debate—with Ephraim. The two of them began a heated, if quiet, discussion, and Ephraim found he couldn't pick up much of it, hard as he tried.

"How early is it, anyway?" he heard Knoll ask.

"Just after sunrise, it looks like," Natasha answered quietly. Ephraim heard her soft footsteps, thought she said something else, and heard her leave. After that, he was asleep.

* * *

On the western side of the fortress, the shadows were still long. Fog was still clinging in places, and it was chilly. Artur actually had to put on his extra robe to sit outside. Lute, beside him, didn't seem to be bothered by the cold at all. She was just staring straight ahead, toward the lightening horizon. 

Marisa was several yards away, also in shadow, practicing with her sword. This fascinated Artur, who considered himself rather bright for knowing which end of the sword one was supposed to hold on to. Artur had watched her for a while, but guilt had led him back to watching Lute again.

She stared at nothing, really. Just off into the distance, which he might have considered typical of Lute if it hadn't gone on all the previous night and continued from when she woke up an hour or so ago.

"Lute, come on. At least say _something_. I feel bad enough already." And it was true. Artur felt terrible about being happy someone had finally shut the mage up, and he felt even worse now that it was lasting longer than it should have.

"Artur," Lute said in reply, lightly, as though they were starting a new conversation.

"What is it?" He smiled expectantly as she turned to look at him.

"Hi."

This, of course, made the monk worry even more.

"Artur!" said a cheery voice behind him. He looked over his shoulder and suppressed a sigh as Tethys sat fluidly on his other side. "What a pleasant surprise." The dancer raised an eyebrow in what Artur strongly suspected was a suggestive manner. "Admiring Marisa's…swordplay, are you?"

"Gerik had no more duties for you?" Artur returned politely, not mentioning that it was _her_ fault Lute wasn't herself.

"That rogue is on the other side of the fortress, curled up in the sun like a satisfied cat!" Tethys sounded indignant. "He ate early and just up and went outside to nap. Again."

"I'm not sure Rennac would appreciate—"

"Artur!" Lute was looking at him again, and this time she sounded urgent.

"What is it, Lute?" he asked. Tethys pouted at being ignored.

"You have to know!" This wasn't the Lute he knew, certainly. She rarely if ever spoke with this much turbulent emotion.

"Know what?"

"Eirika's in danger!"

Artur sighed. "Yes, we know that. You were there yesterday when Valter carried her off."

"That's not it! She—" Lute stopped, blinked a few times, and resumed staring off into the distance.

"She what, Lute? Come on, tell me!" But there was no reply from the mage.

"Wonder what's bothering her," Tethys said from his other side. Artur sighed yet again, then got up, pulling Lute with him. "Where are you going?"

"Inside." Half-dragging Lute behind him, Artur did his best to storm back into the fortress. There wasn't much spirit in it, though.

Marisa's eyes flickered in their direction, but her series of strikes and parries didn't miss a beat.

* * *

He put his hand on the rough wall. It felt warm, despite the cold of a typical desert night. His fingers traced the bumps and dents of the wall, ran over ragged edges of what had once been fine drapery, and stopped when they were blocked by another wall, by the corner. 

He couldn't believe they had raced all the way here, only too arrive too late. The palace was in ruins, the Stone was destroyed…and the Queen was dead. And now…his shoulders felt heavier. He knew he could have—should have—done something. Acted faster.

Never left.

The sound of something quiet made him look up, and he turned slightly toward the sound, just enough to make out Natasha standing there, the light of sunrise slanting onto her face and robes.

"Joshua?" she asked, not to confirm that it was him, but to make sure it was all right for her to be there. He wanted to tell her to leave him be, that he needed some time by himself, here in his old home. The home he should never have left.

But he couldn't. Not to Natasha.

"Do you ever wonder what became of your family when you left Grado?" he asked. The cleric looked taken aback, but she came farther inside the ruined palace, considering her answer.

"I haven't seen my family…since joining my order. I hadn't heard from them in months when…when I left. But I'm sure they're…well, as good as I can expect."

Joshua turned back to the wall again, leaning his head against it this time. This had been the entrance hall. How often had he run through here, as a child, against his mother's wishes but in perfect agreement with his own? How many people had passed through here on the way into the palace itself?

And now, it was ruined and burnt. His home and what remained of his family…all of it was gone.

"Natasha?"

"Yes, Joshua?"

The myrmidon's hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes were closed. He didn't turn away from the wall as he spoke. "How…how could I have…_left_ her? How can I have just walked out on my only family? I…I could have _been_ here…"

Warm arms wrapped around him, and he opened his eyes, startled. "You could have."

"But I wasn't. The Queen…my mother…she…"

"You could have been here. But what if you had stayed? I would most certainly be dead by now. Eirika might have failed in her quest long ago, if you weren't there that day in Serafew. …You would have burned here with the rest of the palace."

"No. I would have fought!"

"Your mother must have fought, too, if she's anything like you."

"One person can't possibly be so important to the world. My presence hasn't changed a thing about Eirika's journey." Joshua couldn't decide between being angry or crying, both of which were relatively uncommon for him.

"…It's…it's not fair, is it."

He let out a long breath, turning around and returning Natasha's embrace. "No. It isn't."

Neither knew how long they stood like that. The sun had risen considerably higher by the time both of them finally let go.

"Don't you have a prince to be hovering around?" Joshua asked, trying to give her a playful smile.

"You mean besides you?" she replied with an equal attempt. "…Oh! Ephraim! I…well, I didn't forget, but…oh, who knows what ideas…"

"Come on. Let's go head him off before he moves the army out without us."

* * *

"What do you think?" 

"I think it's beyond me. Don't give me that look! You know full well my limitations."

"I don't want to hear any more about your limitations! I want _results_!"

"You know very well we can't have one without the other." This…was a third voice. Calm. Direct. "Stop yelling."

"I'm not yelling!" The first voice. Yelling.

"Yes you are!" The second voice. Yelling, too.

"I will not take any more of this!"

"You're a fool, Valter! Even more of a fool for going after them directly!"

"It worked, didn't it!"

"Blind luck and idiocy saved you."

"That's _it_!"

"Don't you raise your lance at me!" It sounded deafening now.

"Both of you are imbeciles." That calm voice again. Then another sound.

"Now look what you've done! He's gone!"

"What _I've_ done? One of these days, Valter!"

"One of these days what?

"You'll find out." There was grumbling, and the sound of someone walking away very loudly.

For a long time, there was silence. She waited until she thought she was alone to open her eyes.

"Well, well, well." Riev's unsightly face smirked down at her. "What have we here."

Eirika scowled. She wanted very badly to spit at him, or perhaps to draw her sword and run him through. Entertaining these thoughts almost made her smile.

"Something _funny_, Princess?" he asked mockingly. "I find it very funny that we have you and your little bracelet, and your brother will be coming for you, wearing his."

Eirika desperately wanted to laugh now, but she didn't dare. Still, she fought to sit up and look at her wrists—if they'd taken it, things would end far sooner than she thought.

Pain exploded in her left side, and Riev laughed when she cried out and fell back down. The long scratch on her face began to sting, too, and her head was throbbing.

"Poor little Princess. That's what happens when you take on the Moonstone, girl." He laughed some more, the end of his staff striking the ground. She scowled at that, too; Riev was just as vile as Valter. Staves didn't suit evil people.

"I trust I'll be able to leave you here. You don't look like you'll be going anywhere anytime soon." Still chuckling to himself, Riev walked out of the room.

Eirika sighed, then winced when that hurt, too. She had no idea where she was, only that Valter and Riev must have taken here somewhere far from Ephraim and the others.

_So it was those two yelling at each other, before. I wish I could remember more of what they said…my head's killing me. _Eirika's thoughts wandered once again to where she might be. What little she could see of the room she was in spoke of luxury, and whatever sort of bed she was on was very soft.

She looked around as much as she could without moving. There was a low, dusty end table beside her. The only thing it held was a small painting of two children. The boy was drawing on the ground with a stick; the girl was standing next to him, flowers in her arms, watching him draw.

Eirika's eyes widened. She knew that picture—Forde had given it to Ephraim several years ago. He had given her one as well, of the two of them wading in the river.

"I'm in Renais castle," she whispered, looking back up at the ceiling of her brother's room.

After a while, she tried getting up again. She did her absolute best to ignore the stabbing pain in her side, and was most of the way standing before it became too much for her. She sank to her knees on the floor, holding her side with both hands.

Glass clinked together, and quick footsteps retreated from the room. Eirika looked up fast enough to see a greenish blur round the corner; there was a silver tray holding a pitcher of water and a plate of food on the floor just inside the door.

This brought to her attention the fact that she was, in fact, very thirsty, if not all that hungry. Somehow she managed to reach the food, though she nearly blacked out more than once on the way.

_I'll eat first. Then I'll think about what I should do. This is…this is home, after all. I know it better than Valter ever could.

* * *

_

"We're going." Ephraim's voice made it clear that he would accept no more arguments. It was already afternoon and, in his mind, nothing had been done. He didn't care if they had to travel through the night and for several afterward. They _had_ to get to Renais.

"What are we going to do with Amelia, Colm, Ross and Cormag?" Forde asked, his last attempt at getting Ephraim to change his mind. "We can't just leave them here, but they can't walk or ride."

"Sure they can," Ewan offered brightly. "They can ride with the supply convoy."

"An excellent idea," Ephraim agreed, and the mage grinned at the praise.

"Only if Prince Ephraim accompanies them," said Seth with the shadow of a smile. Ephraim sighed. It was bad enough having to conduct this conversation while holding himself up between Kyle and Saleh.

"I can walk myself," he insisted stubbornly.

"Ephraim." Innes' voice was less steely than Ephraim had ever heard before—directed at him, anyway—and the sniper met his rival's eyes stonily. "I despise you. That doesn't mean you get to overwork yourself so I can't ever beat you."

Ephraim just stared. This was Innes, being…concerned? _Well, now I've seen everything. Eirika must have been having quite a trip_. With another soft sigh, he agreed, very reluctantly, to ride with the others.

"So we're going?" Franz asked hopefully.

"We're going," Duessel confirmed. "To Renais."

Everything was loaded and readied as quickly as they all were able. Ephraim stared out at the desert, at the ruins of Jehanna Hall, and then in the direction of Renais.

"Do us the honors, your highness," Forde said with a smirk. Ephraim smiled back; with one hand on his lance and the other in the air, he motioned forward.

"Move out!"

* * *

That's the second chapter. Any thoughts? 


	3. Endless Night

**Firelight**

A/N: This chapter is out early for Omni, by request and because he's awesome. I've done my best to rid the thing of spelling errors/typos, but do let me know if I've missed one.

**Chapter Three: Endless Night**

Ross was annoyed.

He didn't like having to ride in the convoy. He didn't like that it bounced and jostled through the sand. He didn't like that all the bouncing and jostling only made everything hurt worse. He didn't like that Eirika's brother had been grumpy and snappish for the past three hours. He _really_ didn't like that he had been taken down so easily.

The floor bounced more heavily than usual. Groaning, Ross sat up, finding himself staring at Ewan's blue cape and red hair. The mage had hopped up to sit on the back of the cart, which had been left open. He was humming to himself and doing something with his hands that Ross couldn't see.

"Don't make too much noise," he grumbled, and Ewan started, looking back over his shoulder as though he expected an attack.

"Oh, Ross. It's just you." Ewan laughed, flushing red. "I don't know what I thought it was…guess I'm just jumpy."

"I said, be quiet. Don't wake that prince up again." Ross shook his head. "What are you doing, anyway? Shouldn't you be with Saleh?"

"He's up there being stuffy." Ewan frowned toward the front of the cart. "Talking with General Seth and Prince Innes and Sir Kyle about…I don't know. It was too boring to listen to."

"I haven't seen Dad all day. Know where he is?" Ross looked hopeful. Ewan caught the look and felt the beginnings of sympathy for him.

"Yeah, he's off comparing axe technique with Dozla. I think."

"Any idea where we are?"

"In the desert." Ewan grinned when Ross rolled his eyes. "Hey, _you_ asked." Ross glared at him, but that only widened his grin. "We should be close to the end of the desert, though. Hopefully there'll be a town or something we can stop in for the night. I don't want to wake up to some monster trying to skewer me."

"If you mages had any kind of defense at all, you wouldn't have to worry," Ross taunted.

"Us mages are up and walking."

"Give it up, Ross," said Amelia softly from the other side of the cart. "You're not going to win."

"Oh, Amelia, did we wake you up?" Ewan asked, looking concerned. "I'm sorry."

"I was awake already," she replied, sitting up and waving one hand at him. "You worry too much."

"He's been around Saleh and Kyle for too long," Ross said with a smirk. Ewan made a face at him.

"I did hear what you said about finding a town, though. I don't know if…" Amelia looked around once, lowering her voice. "…if Ephraim plans to _let_ us stop. Earlier he sounded…really driven."

"You were _listening_?" Ross was stunned. Ewan looked disheartened.

"If it was your sister, Ewan, or your father, Ross, wouldn't you want to just keep on going until you found her?" Amelia considered this for a second. "Or him?"

The boys looked at one another, then at the same time stared at the floor of the cart.

"So much for wishing for a soft bed tonight," Ross grumbled. Ewan offered him a lazy smile.

"Don't worry about it, Ross. I'll keep you entertained with the marble game." Reaching into a pocket, Ewan pulled out a handful of marbles and began to juggle.

"But we're moving," Ross argued, staring hard at the marbles. "They should drop off the end of the cart."

"Not necessarily," Amelia countered. "And speak quietly, Ross. He could be tossing them back toward himself, so we would move to catch up with them."

Ross muttered something and lay back down, wishing he could roll over with his back to them, but too many broken things stopped him.

"Sorry, Ross. I'm just bored. …I can go walk now, if you want." Ewan put the marbles away. "You guys should probably sleep anyway. The last thing I need is for Natasha or crazy L'Arachel to start chasing me across the desert waving a staff."

"I though all the staves were used up?" Amelia raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't stop them from swinging." Ewan smiled at her, then hopped down off the cart. "Good luck." He hurried off, out of sight of the cart.

"That wasn't very nice, Ross," Amelia scolded quietly. "You hurt his feelings."

"No I didn't. He _always_ talks like that."

"Ross!"

Ross sighed. "Fine. I'll apologize later." He closed his eyes purposefully, intent on actually getting some sleep.

Amelia echoed his sigh, staring out the back of the convoy. The land behind them still looked like desert, but the temperature was dropping. If they really did travel through the night, she surmised, they might be near the Jehanna border by morning. Assuming nothing stopped them.

Amelia hadn't been with Eirika's army from its beginning, but she felt she had been there long enough to realize that if the ideal situation involved nothing happening, then something was bound to.

* * *

The sun was touching the horizon by the time Gerik finally pried himself away from Tethys. He wanted to talk to Marisa. He wasn't sure what he was going to talk about, exactly, but his conversations with her were always very interesting.

He found her walking near the front of their small caravan parade, looking straight ahead and constantly on guard. He was careful to approach her only after he was well in view. He didn't want a steel sword resting where his arm or head had once been.

"Hello, Marisa," he said conversationally, turning to walk backwards in front of her. "Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

"Yes, Chief." Marisa's eyes settled on him for the barest of seconds before returning to scanning the area around them. Gerik found that very unsettling.

"How many chances do you get to watch the sunset while you travel?" he asked the open air. They were finally out of the desert, but the outskirts of Jehanna, where it came very close to Renais and Carcino, were wilder and offered better ambush spots. Seth, Kyle, Forde and Vanessa made up the front of their parade, and Gerik almost felt sorry for them, as well as for Gilliam and Innes, guarding the rear; they would need to be steadily on edge, ready to signal or defend at a moment's notice.

"Chief," Marisa said formally.

"Yeah?"

"You are in my line of vision."

"That's where people are, generally, when they have conversations." Gerik grinned, trying to lighten the mood. He was well aware that Marisa probably wasn't in a very good mood.

Instead of another sharp response, however, Marisa's face softened, becoming almost sad. "This is about…being more sociable?" She met his eyes and held them. "Am I doing it wrong?"

That had been unexpected. Gerik found himself without words for a very long while, and he turned back to watching the sunset, walking beside Marisa on the side where it was easiest to avoid her sword. Gerik liked to delude himself that such a side existed.

"Chief?"

"What? Oh…well, it wasn't…perfect, but it wasn't completely bad, either. I mean…you're getting better at it." He tried to offer a reassuring smile, but Marisa was back to her scanning. "It usually helps to make casual conversation."

"Conversation." She looked at him again, incredulous.

"Yeah. You know, talking about things like…the weather, or the most recent battle, or listening to your companions' stories about life."

"Listening is not conversation. Chief."

"Oh…it can be. You do a lot of listening, don't you?"

"I listen for enemies." Marisa's words were hard again. "You shouldn't let your guard down, Chief."

"We're not going to be attacked here, Marisa. The sun's almost down and everything's getting quiet around us." He smiled, feeling very optimistic. "Besides, I'm sure we could handle anything that came our way."

"This army has no leader." She met Gerik's eyes again and held them solemnly.

"Of course it does. I mean, Eirika may be gone, but we have Prince Ephraim."

"He is incapacitated."

"He's still taking over as our leader, Marisa. And Seth is the famous Silver Knight…and Prince Innes is a brilliant tactician. We're hardly leaderless."

"The leader they know is gone." Gerik couldn't argue with that one. No matter how many good decisions either of the princes or the general made, Eirika was who they were used to, and their performance would suffer until they knew she was all right.

"Those are some really…sharp observations. But then, you have a lot of practice observing." Gerik shook his head, noticing how dark it was getting. "I hope the prince has plans to stop for the night. There's no sense in tiring us all out, just in case we are attacked on the road."

Gerik glanced back over his shoulder, towards the supply convoy. Franz and Tana were riding behind it, talking quietly. Gerik could guess from the looks on their faces that Ephraim was both awake and adamant that they continue.

He was right. Ephraim was very awake and very grumpy.

The prince of Renais crossed his arms stubbornly, refusing to yield to the soft but serious demands of Tana and Franz. They wanted to stop at the nearest town, find shelter and food and rest. Ephraim wanted to reach Renais _now_, despite that being impossible.

"They have a point, Prince Ephraim," said Cormag, who was looking longingly at where Genarog was walking behind the cart. "We all need a break, if we can get one. Think of Artur and Ewan, or Knoll and Natasha. They've been walking nonstop."

"We didn't leave until late afternoon," Ephraim protested.

"It was early afternoon, and we've been crossing hot, hostile desert," Tana returned, and Achaeus snorted his agreement. Her arms were folded in a manner almost identical to Ephraim's, and she was equally as stubborn. "We're going to stop as soon as we come to a town, and that's final."

"Good. Maybe someone can hunt down a staff there," Colm mumbled, stretching. "I'm tired of riding. And of Neimi worrying, though I doubt she'll stop anytime soon."

"Tana?" Franz asked hesitantly. She turned to look at him, and he flinched at the intensity of her gaze. "What if…what if we don't find a town tonight?"

"We will," she insisted.

"But we may not."

"Whose side are you _on_, Franz?" Colm complained. "If I had my knife I'd throw it at you."

"You'd miss," teased Cormag with a smirk.

"Want me to aim at you instead?"

"I like you both better sleeping," Ephraim muttered, and the three of them laughed quietly, careful not to wake up Ross or Amelia. Tana and Franz looked at each other and shrugged.

"Fine, Tana," Ephraim said reluctantly. "If we can find a place to stay the night, then we'll stop."

"When you're not feuding with my brother, you really can be reasonable, Ephraim." She sounded very pleased with herself, and was still smiling when she and Franz rode away to spread the news to the rest of the army.

Duessel rode up to the cart barely seconds after they had gone. "Never thought I'd see you in trouble with any woman who wasn't your sister." He was grinning.

"Oh, go away," Ephraim groaned. "You wouldn't mock me if I had my lance."

"And you could stand," added Cormag quietly. Ephraim glared at him. "Eirika makes the same face, Prince. I'm used to it."

"What did the Princess of Frelia want with you?" Duessel asked.

"She convinced me to let us stop, if we ever find a place."

"Doubtless there will be many villages, perhaps a town or two. Though with the direct route you decided on…" Duessel looked to his left, staring off into the distance. "We're not likely to pass places where the people might know or remember Eirika and her army. We may be turned out."

"There's the chance," Ephraim agreed, not looking at all worried that such a thing might happen. He might even have been hoping for it. "I'd like to see any villager try standing up to Tana when she's in this mood, though."

They shared a laugh; Duessel stopped first, peering into the deepening darkness. "We're also at risk of an ambush on the road."

"General Duessel!" said Kyle stiffly as he rode closer.

"Ah, Sir Kyle!" Duessel said brightly, and Ephraim winced. Hadn't he warned the old general about that? "Is there news?"

"Of course, sir." Kyle was as casually formal as he had ever been, and Ephraim even suspected he was enjoying himself. Or at least enjoying his title. "Neimi's spotted a village about a mile or so away. We should be arriving shortly."

"Give her a thank you from me," Colm sighed happily. "Anything for a bed tonight."

"You have a bed in here," Cormag argued, smirking.

"I meant a bed with the soft parts still attached."

"In that case, I'll find you a nice patch of grass." Cormag's smirk spread into a full grin. "You can pitch a tent for yourself."

"You're not making any sense," Colm protested, rolling over with a snort. Cormag chuckled quietly.

"You're both very entertaining," Kyle remarked dryly, before turning to Duessel again. "Any other questions for me, General?"

"No, I don't think so. Carry on." Kyle made a gesture that Ephraim could only interpret as a salute of some kind, and turned to ride back up to the front of the line. Duessel looked back at Ephraim and winked.

"Don't start," he muttered wearily. "I don't have the time to undo a chivalrous Kyle." Duessel laughed again, quieter this time.

"Don't worry, Prince Ephraim. It won't get to his head too much." Ephraim gave Duessel an exasperated sigh. The great knight was still laughing as he rode away.

* * *

"What are you talking about?" Tana asked sharply.

"Exactly what you heard," replied the villager, crossing his arms and giving her a stern glare. "We'll allow no one into town after nightfall."

"You've got to be kidding!" Franz protested.

"He looks serious to me," Forde mumbled to his brother.

"You would deny entry to the Prince and Princess of Frelia?" Innes asked in his steely voice.

"This is Jehanna, not Frelia."

"So you turn away the last of the Jehanna royal line," Innes continued, cocking an eyebrow. "I don't think he'll be pleased."

"Queen Ismaire is dead and her palace burned," the man said stubbornly. "There were no survivors."

"And you're also—"

"Excuse me!" L'Arachel, off her horse but no less imposing, pushed her way to the front and struck the end of her powerless but still quite dangerous staff against the ground. "Have you any idea with whom you now speak?"

"An upstart healer waving her staff around like a maniac?" the man replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Actually—" Rennac began, but a warning look from L'Arachel stopped him.

"I am Princess L'Arachel, the niece of Pontifex Mansel, the ruler of the theocracy of Rausten."

"You're keeping her out, too," Innes went on, slightly smiling. By now, he was counting them off on his fingers.

"You shall _not_ refuse us entry!"

"You have no proof you're who you say you are," countered the villager, looking thoroughly annoyed. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going back to bed."

"Stop! I _demand_ you open your gates to us!"

"If you let her keep going, Innes," said Rennac, looking a bit pale, "she's going to start thinking things like 'vanquish.'"

"That will be bad?" Innes asked quietly.

"Very."

"And just so you know," Innes called loudly, trying to stop L'Arachel from further noble protest, "our convoy is carrying the Crown Prince of Renais. Here, so close to the border of Jehanna and Renais, you would refuse us?"

The man spat on the ground. "Fools. Everyone knows the Prince of Renais died in Grado, fighting Emperor Vigarde's battalion. I don't want to know who you're really working for, but you'd best be far from this place by the time I come back out." With that, he turned and walked into a nearby cottage.

"How can they do this?" Tana asked, a desperate edge creeping into her voice.

"We can't fight them about it, Tana," Innes said as gently as possible. "We've already wasted precious time here. Let's go."

"But…but Innes!"

"It's not worth it."

Sighing, Tana mounted Achaeus again, letting him take off and fly a bit. It was dark enough to make her stay close to the earthbound caravan, but she kept far enough to the front that she wouldn't have to deal with her older brother.

L'Arachel had grumpily gotten back on her horse, and Dozla was marching along beside her, offering consolation mixed in with adoring praise. Rennac lagged behind, thankful the troubadour had someone else she could complain to.

Seth was concentrating as hard as he could on the road ahead. Aside from being at the true front of the group and needing to make sure the road was clear and safe, he thought it might make a good distraction from his other thoughts.

He was wrong. It just made him think of her more.

It was simply not possible for a knight to have such feelings for the lady he protected, he reminded himself. It was entirely not part of knightly behavior, and besides, she was a _princess_, she was royalty. She was above him.

That didn't do much to stop his thoughts, either.

Seth shifted his lance to his other hand, satisfied that for now there were no imminent dangers on the road. He would have kept staring out at the landscape if someone hadn't spoken.

"You seem lost in thought." Seth was startled. He hadn't even noticed Saleh walking beside him.

"I am," he replied, looking down at the top of the sage's head. "There's a lot to think about."

"Indeed there is." That would have been the extent of their conversation on any other night. Saleh considered ending it, but felt that the present situation warranted discussion. "We are not taking the route now that we took to reach Jehanna."

"I know. We won't come anywhere near Caer Pelyn, this time."

"In a way, that's for the best," Saleh replied, though Seth thought he heard longing in the sage's voice. "I wouldn't want us to bring more danger to my home than we already have."

"You suspect we're being followed?" Seth raised an eyebrow.

"Watched, perhaps. Observed."

"What makes you think this?" Seth slowed his horse and lowered his voice. "Have you seen something?"

"Nothing I can think of with certainty. I will tell you if I do see something." Seth nodded, once again thinking the conversation ended. "What will we do upon reaching Renais?"

Seth was taken entirely by surprise. He hadn't known Saleh to be so forward with his questions. Then again, he considered, to anyone but himself, this probably didn't seem forward.

"I shall assume Valter has taken the Princess to Renais Castle. If that proves to be true…we may have to attack."

"I've never been to the capital of Renais," Saleh said conversationally. "Is the castle well-defended?"

"It will be difficult for us to breach. Still…I find myself sharing the command of a varied and talented army. One of us will find a way."

"You're worried about her." Saleh's voice was whisper-soft. Seth wondered how many times it was possible to be struck speechless in one night.

"Of course I am," he answered in the same tone. "We all are."

"But _you_ are worried, Seth. General." Seth frowned. He wasn't looking at Saleh anymore, but he could hear the half-smile in the sage's voice. "More worried than you care to let on to the rest of your valiant army."

"Are you going to make a point with this?"

"Actually, I am." Saleh paused for a long moment, walking in silence.

"When do you think I'll get to hear it?"

Saleh sighed. Turning his point into words was harder than he'd thought. "Do you wonder if she _knows_ you're so worried?"

"She's not _here_, Saleh."

"But you know what I'm talking about. General." As much as he didn't want to admit it, even to himself, Seth _did_ know what Saleh was talking about. But he couldn't think of that now. He was but a knight, after all, and there were rules.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the rules probably weren't written down and official anywhere. But they were still rules, if only because everyone else had to follow them, too.

Saleh fell back a bit then, aware that Seth was back in his thoughts again and not prone to more conversation. Instead, the sage slowed until he walked beside one of the newest members of the group.

"Good evening, Great Dragon." Anyone watching would have found his change to pleasant formality a bit unnerving. Myrrh certainly did.

"Please. I told you, there's no need for you to call me that."

"And as I said, you are indeed the Great Dragon. There is little else I can call you."

Myrrh looked up at him, folding her wings back a bit so they didn't accidentally knock him over. "You could call me Myrrh."

"I wouldn't do you such a disrespect."

"But it wouldn't be one, Saleh. I'd _like_ it. I wish you wouldn't be so formal." For all she looked to be somewhere around the age of twelve, Myrrh spoke at the level of her true age. The eyes she fixed him with were solemn, bordering on sad.

Saleh looked back at her, noting the emotion in her eyes and the tone of her voice. "…To call you just Myrrh would be far too familiar."

"It's my _name_, Saleh." She searched her mind for another solution. "You could…call me by a title, the way I've heard Prince Ephraim called. And I mean a title that isn't 'Great Dragon.'"

He could tell she really wanted this. He knew that Ephraim already called her just Myrrh, but that was unthinkable for someone from Caer Pelyn. "I will consider it," he decided, offering her a smile. She smiled back, looking relieved.

Cormag had been watching carefully, waiting for everyone else riding to fall asleep—and Ephraim had taken his sweet time—before whistling quietly to Genarog. The wyvern came closer, and with only a few sharp breaths Cormag climbed onto his back.

"Let's fly," he whispered, and the wyvern took off. Cormag smiled, relishing the free feeling of flying. Anyone watching would think Genarog was just stretching his wings.

* * *

Eirika rolled over in her sleep and was jolted awake by a stab of pain in her side. She thought she cried out, but most of her was still asleep. Still, she rolled back onto her back and waited until she was most of the way awake before opening her eyes.

She wasn't sure how she had even fallen asleep. It was more mentally taxing to be held prisoner when it was happening in your own home, she decided. At least a dungeon of some kind would have made it seem less real.

She sat up, fighting against blacking out. When her vision cleared, she noted Riev standing in the doorway, leaning on his staff and smirking at her.

"You're quite a surprise, Princess," he said dryly. "Very few in Renais have your willpower. Your brother certainly didn't. I'd venture that he's dead by now."

Outwardly, Eirika let herself look furious. Inside, she was triumphant. Riev had said before that Ephraim was coming. Whether he didn't remember or he didn't expect her to didn't matter. She knew Ephraim was still alive.

She also knew that they hadn't taken her bracelet, and was immensely relieved. As long as they didn't try to, she still had a chance.

"Valter should be coming by soon, Princess." Riev's use of her title was mocking, not in any way respectful. "I assure you, he's been _dying_ to talk to you." With a harsh laugh, Riev turned and stalked out.

Eirika took a deep breath, flinched, and decided not to try that again. Still, yesterday—had it been only yesterday?—she had nearly stood, and while she felt worse today, she knew she didn't have much time.

Riev hadn't said what Valter planned to do once he got there. That was enough to assure Eirika she didn't want to find out, either. She scanned the walls and shelves of her brother's room for something she might use to help her stand.

Any of the lances that might have once been kept in the room were gone. She thought of pulling a post from the bed, as they were removable, but it would be too cumbersome and heavy.

After some effort and a few moments where she thought she really would collapse on the floor, Eirika managed to get to her feet, holding tight to one of the bedposts. Slowly she inched forward, shaking from the effort.

She was nearly to the door, to making her way out of the castle, when a sudden noise down the long hall made her stop short with a gasp. In the next second she hit her knees, biting back a scream. It felt like someone had impaled her. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to let the pain take over.

"Eirika!" The voice was faint, and coming from far away. "He's coming! He mustn't know!" The voice faded as it spoke. By the time she could look up again, nothing was there at all.

She was still there on the floor, summoning the courage to get up again, when Valter rounded the corner and found her there. The light from the half moon fell across the floor, beginning just before the spot where Eirika knelt and ending inches short of Valter's feet.

"Trying to escape, Princess?" His voice was full of a hatred that rested just under the surface. "We can't have that. Look at me." Against her will, Eirika raised her eyes to meet his.

He was smiling, if it could even be called a smile; it looked more like a grimace. A red scar ran the length of his face, crossing over his ruined, uncovered eye. The absence of one eye made his face that much more vile. He seemed to enjoy the look of disgust she gave him.

"Poor little Princess Eirika. You never wanted to fight in this war. All you wanted was _peace_ for your people." He made the word 'peace' sound like 'vermin.' He seemed to be waiting for her to speak, but she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction.

"Believe me, Princess, I never wanted to have to kill your brother. Do you know that your actions have moved your entire retinue to come running back to Renais to save you?" He laughed, a wicked, dark sound. "When all of this is over and I have the Sacred Stone, you will know nothing but peace, I assure you. You will be mine alone."

She glared at him. "I wouldn't lower myself." He turned his twisted smile on her and laughed again.

"You will not have a choice. Everyone else you love will die." With one last cackling laugh, he took a step forward and kicked her.

Eirika felt herself roll across the floor; only the wall stopped her. She felt nothing for several very long minutes, and then felt the explosion of pain in her side. Short of breath, she pushed herself back up to her hands and knees.

"Your ribs are broken. Pity." He sneered. "I could be merciful and force Riev to heal you. He doesn't want to do it; he likes watching you suffer."

"So much slime in Renais is insulting," Eirika replied, ignoring the part of her that warned she might be kicked again. It didn't matter; he wouldn't kill her. In his mind, he needed her for her bracelet.

"In that case…I like watching it, too. But no more of these escapes," he added. Eirika was looking at the floor, fighting a descent into unconsciousness. She heard the door close and the lock turn.

She was locked in, but that didn't matter much either. She couldn't even get up.

_Ephraim is coming,_ she reminded herself. _Or, at least…your army is. Saleh, Forde, Kyle…Colm and Neimi…Tana and Innes. And Seth. Even if…even if Ephraim isn't with them…they're coming._

A burst of resolve let her clench her hands into fists, and she forced herself to her knees. She could still see the moon out the window. The night had barely begun. She was locked in, but this was Ephraim's room. There would have been more than one way out.

_And when they get here, I'm going to be there to meet them_.

* * *

Riev rubbed his hands together in a decidedly evil way. Once he noticed himself doing it, he stopped. The wyvern rider had set him down only moments ago, and it was two hours to sunrise. Soon, they would be coming. He would just have to wait.

Eirika's army would never make it to Renais. Not while he stood in its way.

* * *

The sun was rising. Forde could see it, just the tip of it, cresting the horizon. He had an inexplicable impulse to paint it. He shoved it away as the effects of riding all night and tried to wake himself up a bit more. He had a very uneasy feeling, too, one that he hoped was also due to lack of sleep.

"I refuse to believe we were turned away from four consecutive villages!" L'Arachel's voice floated toward him from several yards back. "Do they not realize who we _are_?"

"Right now we look like a bunch of crazed, ragged travelers trying to pass for royalty," answered Joshua. "I'm not surprised no one believes us. Especially if they think Ephraim was killed."

Rennac was watching the conversation with some interest. Joshua seemed to be one of the few who could stand to converse with a crazy green-haired troubadour. Or perhaps he was faking it.

"How do they _dare_ refuse the _Princess_ of _Rausten_?" she cried, looking almost overly aggravated. Rennac rolled his eyes.

"Maybe they'll be more likely to let us in with the dawn," Dozla offered in an attempt to console her. "It must have been hard for them to refuse you, lass, but safety must come first."

They talked about this a bit more. Rennac lost interest very quickly, and just as quickly he was walking with Neimi and Gilliam, instead. The knight looked as though he could walk forever, whether he got sleep or not. Neimi seemed to be asleep on her feet, but going forward anyway. Both of them were likely to be very quiet, which was exactly what Rennac wanted.

Ephraim opened his eyes, took one look at the ceiling of the convoy and sat straight up. He couldn't believe he had fallen asleep. It seemed impossible, but what seemed even more unlikely was that they had stopped somewhere overnight and were now continuing, and he hadn't ever woken.

"Tana?" he called. The Pegasus knight was riding right behind them, dozing lightly in the saddle. She looked up at the sound of her name and gave Ephraim a sleepy smile.

"Good morning." She looked around, waking up the rest of the way. "Sun's coming up. It looks like it will be cloudy today."

"Tana, where are we?"

"Just over the Renais border, I think. We were close when I fell asleep, we should be over it by now."

"The Renais border."

"I don't think we could have gone much farther."

"That's not what I meant. How did we find a village, stay overnight, get up _before_ sunrise and make it all the way to the border of Renais and Jehanna? How did I sleep through it?"

"You didn't."

"Well I certainly wasn't awake through it."

"We never stopped. Most of us have been awake all night, Ephraim. We tried three villages and a town, and none of them would take us. At the last one we even tried to send Natasha and Artur in to buy staves, but they wouldn't have it."

Ephraim tried his best to follow it all. A few of the details stuck faster than others. "Three villages and a town?"

"Yes. We were looking for another when I started to fall asleep. Everyone's so tired. I hope we can find a place soon, and I don't care what you say Ephraim, we're stopping and resting until every last one of us is ready to go again!"

Ephraim, however, still hadn't left the first idea. "Not one of them?"

"Are you even _listening_ to me?" The look on Tana's face let Ephraim catch himself up again very quickly. His next thought had a lot to do with what a sleep-deprived army was and was not capable of. The part of him that wanted to get to Renais without losing any time was still adamant, but the more rational part of him had begun to take over, and he didn't like his more rational thoughts. But it was his rational self that spoke next.

"This would be the perfect time…"

"…for some kind of attack." Kyle looked at Forde incredulously. "I'm just saying."

"Do you _want_ us to be attacked? We'd likely not survive, Forde." Kyle frowned as several pieces of hair fell into his eyes. Almost angrily, he brushed them away before turning to check that his lance was ready.

"Of course we would."

"With no staves? Useless healers just become better targets."

"I'd be careful of who might be listening if I were you, throwing the word 'useless' around like that," Forde shot back, giving the green-armored cavalier an angry stare. Kyle's return gaze was impassive.

"You should focus more on what may happen, Forde."

"What may happen?"

"You said it yourself. This is an opportune time to be attacked, and much as I hate to agree with you, enemies seem to keep taking advantage of opportune times."

"We wouldn't _be_ in this situation if we had tried harder to get into one of those villages," Forde huffed. He had really been looking forward to sleeping, and perhaps a hot meal. He'd have been willing to take just one night's uninterrupted sleep, though.

"You would have us leave Eirika at Valter's mercy?" Kyle was astonished.

"That is _not_ what I meant!"

"It was implied. Assuming you know how to imply."

"_You_ just implied I'm an imbecile!" Forde growled hotly. He was tired of riding, tired of being on guard, tired of being tired, and tired of _Kyle_.

"Your words," said the other cavalier in a similar tone. "I couldn't have chosen them better myself."

"How could you think I'd want anything to happen to her!"

"How could you think we would stop traveling just so _you_ could indulge yourself in some completely unchivalrous behavior!"

"That's not even a _word_! You're insulting me with _nonsense_ now?" Forde's voice had become dangerously loud. He wasn't quite yelling, but he was close.

"Well what do you expect? It's all I hear from you."

"I'm not going to put up with this." Forde turned his horse away, riding toward the back of the group. He would let Kyle keep _himself_ company for a while. See how he liked it, riding alone. He'd probably want to ride away from himself, too.

All thought of Kyle was lost in the next second; something moved in the forest to his left. Staring at it, he drew his sword. Whatever it was moved again, and he rode a bit closer.

There was a bright flash, and he was on the ground, his spooked horse running off in the other direction. "What in the—" he grumbled, climbing to his feet. Another flash knocked him down again.

"Forde, what are you doing?" He didn't know whose voice it was, and at the moment he didn't care. From his new angle, he could see what was moving in the forest.

"Mogalls!" Vanessa had spotted them, too, and she and Titania arced into a dive. Raising her lance, she ran one of them through as she passed, feeling pleased with herself when it disappeared, freeing her lance again. Lute had explained—several times—why exactly it was that most monsters just sort of disintegrated upon being killed. It had given Vanessa a headache.

She went to work dealing with as many Mogalls as she could reach, shrugging off their return attacks as though they were nothing. Even ducking between the trees, Titania could outmaneuver the floating eyes, and Vanessa hit a lot more than hit her.

They began to figure this out at about the time the next wave of enemies arrived. Two of the Mogalls headed out of the forest, moving to flank a Maelduin who was galloping toward Lute and Artur.

Artur took several more steps back when he noticed the two newest arrivals. He looked down at the pages of his light tome, reading the spell in his mind. When the magic gathered, a wave of his hand was all it took to blast one of the Mogalls away. The other retaliated with a dark attack that threw Lute back several feet.

"Lute!" Artur cried, barely ducking a swing from the Maelduin's giant axe. "Help me!" She staggered to her feet, glanced down at the red book she was holding, and smiled broadly at Artur.

"He's swinging!" Artur ducked again, losing his balance and landing on his back on the ground. "That looks dangerous."

"Attack him, Lute!" Artur called, almost pleading. He had dropped his book, and it was just beyond his left hand's reach. The Maelduin was swinging again.

"With what?" she asked, but some instinct made her open the book in her hands. A burst of fire struck the centaur-like creature, driving it back and causing it to embed the axe in the ground just inches from Artur's head.

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his book and throwing another light spell at the other Mogall. It disappeared, and Artur went back to ducking and dodging the Maelduin. He imagined he'd be lucky to escape with his head.

Three arrows, one right after the other, thudded into the giant centaur's chest, and it dropped the axe. With a yell, Franz charged past him, swinging his sword. The monster's head fell to the ground, and it stood there for a moment before starting to fade.

Artur got to his feet and retrieved his book, brushing himself off as Franz rode back over. "Thanks, Franz," he said, very relieved. "Better its head than mine."

"Well, if you ever lose your head, Artur," Franz replied with an innocent smile, "it'll be while it's still attached to your shoulders." Artur shook his head, and Franz rode away. Almost angrily, Artur turned to look at Lute, who was staring at her spellbook with great interest.

"Fire came from this!" she said excitedly. Artur resisted rolling his eyes. Some day when he didn't think she might kick him, too, he would have a word with Tethys about this. The old Lute had been irritating, but this Lute was downright _strange_.

"Of course fire came from it, Lute. You're a mage." She looked at the book again, and then met his eyes. He recognized the urgent look in them.

"Princess Eirika! Where is she?" Lute asked, her voice strained.

"Valter has her," Artur answered quietly.

"No! He can't! He'll kill her!"

"He needs her alive, fortunately. She'll stay that way until we get there for her." Artur shook his head. "He needs her to get to the Sacred Stone."

"That's the problem, Artur! She—" Lute stopped, staring at a spot somewhere behind Artur's left shoulder.

"She what, Lute? How often is this going to _happen_?" He turned to look behind him, just to make sure Lute hadn't stopped because she was watching something else. He was quite relieved to find nothing close by, but the rest of the army was fighting for their lives.

Kyle found himself in the thick of it, balancing avoiding axe and lance strikes and magic and trying not to accidentally impale himself, his horse, or Duessel, who was approximately behind him. He felt something hard and metallic crash against his armor, and without turning around, spun his lance and thrust it backward. He was satisfied with the shriek of a dying monster that followed.

"Not bad," Duessel called to him, splitting a Mogall in two with his silver axe. He also had, loaded into the convoy, a silver lance. Kyle had seen it and even now longed to try using it. Another Maelduin, and this one with a bow, distracted him from further thoughts of artistic weaponry.

He felt two arrows skitter off his armor, and he rode forward, hoping to get so close to the Maelduin that he would no longer be in range. He raised his lance as he charged, narrowing his focus to the monster alone. The creature fired another arrow; seconds later, Kyle ran it through. He saw a thunder spell—Saleh or Ewan, he guessed—finish it off, but his attention was directed now at the arrow protruding from his leg.

He cursed under his breath, glaring around at the nearly overwhelming horde of monsters. There didn't seem to be any end in sight, and the sun was only halfway up. It felt like he'd been fighting for hours, already, but it hadn't even been one.

Lack of sleep was doing this, he realized. It was affecting everybody.

"Kyle?" It was Seth's voice. He rode closer, frowning at the arrow. "You—"

"I'm fine." He waved Seth away, the back of his mind wondering when he'd started cutting off the Silver Knight in the middle of his sentences.

"Very well," Seth said stiffly, riding away again. Kyle sighed, raised his lance, and picked out another target.

"Just go slow," he told himself. "As long as you last longer, you _have_ to win."

* * *

Forde glanced at the sun. An hour. For an hour, he'd been horseless, dealing with anything that might come his way on foot. He didn't even know where the horse was, but he was becoming quite the foot soldier. He thought fleetingly of laughing at his own bad joke.

Joshua and Gerik were nearby, and Garcia and Gilliam were carving through an entire battalion of creatures by themselves only a few yards away. It was actually starting to look like the army was going to win.

Forde swiped at another Mogall, not waiting to see it vanish before turning to look for any other enemies. He was surprised and pleased to find no more.

Something crashed into his back, and Forde spun, barely blocking the next swing of a giant axe with his sword. He hadn't liked Maelduins from this lower angle before, and he still didn't. He winced as he felt one of the ties holding his armor on snap from the blow and the constant strain.

He deflected another three or four swings, stepping in under the last to slash at the Maelduin, leaving a decent-sized gash across its front. A hard kick in the chest from one of its feet sent Forde sprawling, and another of his armor ties broke. Groaning, he rolled over to get to his feet.

He froze, on his hands and knees. His attempt to cry out turned into a sound somewhere between a cough and a gasp, and some part of him realized that he was still holding onto his sword.

He fell back to the ground as the Maelduin pulled its axe from his back; his armor had come loose and fallen partially away, giving the monster an opening. The world that Forde could still see was greying—he found that interesting, almost funny—and he could tell that the Maelduin was readying to swing again. Sighing, Forde shut his eyes.

"Get him!" Forde opened his eyes again, struggling to look toward the voice. …_Cormag?_  
The wyvern rider had flown most of the night, and while he was as tired as the rest of them, he was flying. He carried no lance, but he and Genarog agreed that, really, the wyvern himself was weapon enough. He swooped down toward the Maelduin, making several quick passes, doing more damage each time. Within half a minute, the monster was gone.

"Forde!" Cormag jumped down from Genarog's back and ran, hardly slowing as he reached Forde and knelt beside him. "Forde? Answer me!"

"Hey, Cormag," the cavalier offered weakly, smiling. "What were you—"

"I've been flying all night long; I saw what happened. Besides, I owe you." He looked at the wound on Forde's back once and decided he didn't want to look at it again. "You can't get up."

"That a question?" Forde's eyes slipped closed again, and he relaxed his grip on his sword. He didn't need it now, anyway. All the monsters around them were gone.

Cormag looked around once, his eyes settling on Genarog. "Go find Tana or Artur!" he called; two names his wyvern would certainly know. Genarog nodded—a very human gesture—and took off.

"Kyle is going to kill me," Forde mumbled, remembering foggily that Kyle was already in the mood to impale him. "Seth, too."

"Forde…" Cormag began, but he wasn't really sure what he'd been trying to say.

Forde hardly heard him, anyway. He was fighting to stay awake, or at least mostly aware, but it wasn't working. The darkness was rising to meet him, and he was helpless against it.

* * *

So. How was it? Bit of a cliffhanger for all of you. I hope you enjoyed it!


	4. Veiled Intent

**Firelight**

A/N: Thanks to the few who reviewed the last chapter! I hope those who are reading enjoy this one as much as they did the last!

**Chapter Four: Plans Fail**

The castle was quiet. Everything in Eirika's head was telling her that the quiet was not a good thing. She hadn't been home in months, but even when Ephraim had been away and the king busy, the castle had been full of noise. After a while, Eirika decided she just wasn't used to the silence and started looking.

She did her best to ignore the throbbing pain in her side. She'd looked at it; a rather sickening blue-purple bruise spread across her entire left side, darker and more painful to touch where Valter's boot had landed. She was still breathing, though, which she took as a good sign.

A look around Ephraim's room had her fervently hoping that his secret exit—they each had one, just in case—wasn't under or behind something heavy. She was barely managing standing, let alone shoving aside the bed or the wardrobe. The bookshelf she thought she might have been able to handle, but only if she removed all the books first and could stop the sound of it falling from echoing throughout the whole castle.

The door rattled on its hinges. She heard the lock click, and an instant later the door swung open. Valter and Riev stepped inside.

"You will be pleased to know, dear Princess," Riev began in his oily voice, "I had the pleasure of watching the progress of your army's little crusade. How touching, that they have such loyalty to you."

"As much as you delight in taunts, Riev," said Valter coldly, "I want you to finish your message and leave."

Riev gave Valter a withering look. "Fine." He turned back to Eirika with a sneer. "You may not be quite so pleased to know how they were stopped. From what little I saw, victory for your army…is impossible."

Eirika bit back any harsh words she might have wanted to say. What little she had already said had only made things worse, and her silence seemed to upset them more than any words did. She liked that.

"The Maelduin I sent after them were _particularly_ impressive. I stayed long enough to watch some of the fight. There was a small boy, with red hair…and a man on foot with red armor…the Maelduin seemed particularly fond of them. The way the boy just _crumpled_…" Riev laughed wickedly. "I wish only that you could have seen it for yourself."

Still snickering, Riev stalked out of the room. Valter watched his retreating back with an icy glare. When he disappeared around the corner, the wyvern knight's sly smile fell on Eirika, still standing defiantly beside Ephraim's bed.

"Such a display of stubbornness, Eirika," he said in an amused voice. "Standing must be almost too painful to stand. Ah, forgive me my…inopportune play on words. Still, you make yourself look quite foolish."

Eirika fought off the rising urge to attack him, reminding herself that she had nothing to attack him _with_, even if she could get close.

"I suggest you make yourself comfortable, Princess. While Riev may be inclined to underestimate you and your followers, _I_ am not. A few losses may slow them, but they will not be stopped. They have learned stubbornness from you."

He stepped closer, his smile widening. He looked crazed. "Of course, it is only _your_ stubbornness that I value. It offers me such a challenge."

He was gone before she could slap him, though her hand did move through the air where his face had just been. She clenched that hand into a fist, staying on her feet until the door was shut and locked behind him. She let go of her anger then, realizing that all it would do was waste her energy.

She sighed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. It seemed a bit hopeless, really. Even if she did manage to escape, the chances that she would get caught were so high she didn't want to think about them. By instinct her hand reached for the hilt of a sword that wasn't there. She wasn't sure whether she was more uncomfortable being unarmed or having that instinct at all.

Getting up again, Eirika knelt and looked under the bed. She was hoping for either some kind of secret door or something with which she could fight; she found neither. Annoyed, she got back up and searched the wall behind the bed, and again found nothing. She tried the bookshelf next, and then the wardrobe, checking inside but finding only clothes. Leaving the doors open, she sighed and looked around the room.

She checked every place she could think of. It took about an hour, and at the end of it she was still weaponless and still trapped. She sat down on the bed again, looking at the two tall windows. This room was one of the highest in the castle, but if the windows were the only way…she shook her head. She didn't want to think about trying to climb down from such a height, even if she could use the sheets and Ephraim's clothes to help her.

Thinking of the clothes made her look up at the wardrobe again. The doors were still open, and something seemed off. She got up and went over to it, frowning.

The sleeve of one of Ephraim's shirts fluttered in a breeze that couldn't possibly have a source. Reaching her hand into the wardrobe, Eirika grinned. She felt a breeze, too. She stepped inside, reaching out a hand to run it along the wooden back of the wardrobe. She was even more pleased to find not a piece of wood but a curtain, at one side of which was a long pull cord. She pulled it, and the curtain slid aside to reveal a hole cut into the wall at about waist level. It was just big enough for someone about Ephraim's size to crawl into.

She still had nothing to help her if she got into a fight, but this opportunity was too close not to take. Valter or Riev could return at any moment, and she would much rather be gone when they did. She looked once more out the window, at the mostly overcast sky. She could see the sun still; it was about two hours past sunrise.

She reached out and pulled the wardrobe doors closed behind her, prepared for the darkness that enveloped her. Finding the pull cord again, she stepped close to the hole and pulled it, closing the curtain in front of her. Biting her lip to keep from making any noise, she crouched and started to crawl through the hole.

She'd gone about ten yards when the tunnel opened up to a space tall enough for her to stand in. She carefully climbed out of the hole-tunnel, taking a long moment to sit leaning against the wall, waiting for breathing to get easier again.

Eirika didn't know how long she really sat there, listening intently for sounds of pursuit. She stared straight ahead, into the darkness of the tunnel beyond her. She regretted not thinking to bring some kind of light source with her. Still, after she caught her breath and managed to stand again, she continued forward into the darkness.

She hadn't gone more than a few steps when the floor fell away beneath her. She tried to catch her balance, hands reaching for some kind of purchase on the smooth stone, but she only succeeded in twisting to land hard on her right side. It knocked the breath out of her, and what little hold she had on the edge of the drop was lost.

Still trying to catch her breath, she started to fall.

* * *

Vanessa considered taking off. She came perilously close to nudging Titania into the air, but stopped herself at the last second. Prince Innes was dealing with enough as it was. The least she could do was keep him company.

"And _furthermore_, if you would not speak with such a cold demeanor, we may have already been allowed into one of the villages! You are _insufferable_, Innes!" L'Arachel was ranting. Innes rolled his eyes. "How _dare_ you gesture so while I'm speaking to you!"

"Yelling at me, is more like it," Innes muttered, wishing he carried his bow. He would never actually strike her with it, of course, but he could at least entertain himself with imagining it.

"Don't make it worse, Prince Innes," Vanessa whispered, and Innes looked up at her. "Maybe if you ignore it, she'll stop." Vanessa thought this was quite an idea, but Innes didn't look convinced.

"This is all your _fault,_ Prince of Frelia! We would all have been rested and _prepared_ if not for your cynical manner!"

"I wasn't the one waving an empty staff around like a lunatic."

"I completely forgive poor Natasha for that, and you should too!"

"I wasn't talking about _Natasha_!" Innes snapped. "She never went anywhere _near_ the town gates, and she isn't the stubborn—"

"Prince Innes!" Vanessa sighed in relief at Seth's voice. Overtired and irritable as he was, Innes had no idea how close he had come to no longer being in possession of his head.

"What is it, Seth?" Innes yelled sharply. The paladin rode back to them, a look of relief mixed with urgency on his face.

"Princess Tana has just returned with Neimi," he said flatly. "They've spotted a village, about an hour's fast ride from here."

"What's that on foot, then?" Vanessa asked, the first flashes of hope beginning to show themselves.

"Two hours at the fastest pace we can take," Innes answered with a dark frown. "If we can take it."

"If we can make it," Vanessa echoed quietly. "So many more of us got hurt in that fight…"

"Speaking of that, how are you doing?" Innes asked almost gently.

"Oh, stop, Prince Innes. I'm fine." Vanessa had been pointedly ignoring the sting in her left arm where an arrow had gone through it. She did look down at it now, though, flinching at the red spots against the light cloth wrapping it. "It was just one arrow."

"Arrows are especially dangerous for Pegasus knights. I should know." Innes sounded stubborn. "Maelduin have no business carrying bows. …You're not tired or anything?"

"We're all tired, Prince, including you. I meant it, I'm just fine. We'll get to the village and rest and restock soon." She smiled at him, and he scowled deeper. Vanessa didn't mind, though. After so much time spent with the Prince of Frelia, she recognized when he was trying to hide kindness.

The army marched onward, going as fast as they were able. Foremost in just about everyone's thoughts was reaching the village and sleeping. No one forgot they were trying to rescue Eirika, but that didn't have as prominent a place as more immediate needs did.

Seth was still riding at the head of their little caravan, and now it was Tana who rode beside him, with Neimi riding on the pack of her Pegasus. The latter kept glancing back toward the convoy cart, thinking of Colm. Neimi thought she was doing quite well, though—she hadn't cried in days.

Tana was worried, too, and the feeling seemed to be piling higher and higher with each thing that happened. The promise she had made to Eirika, the battle in the desert of Jehanna, Prince Ephraim returning only to be defeated and lose his sister, traveling all night with no rest…and now this new fight. It all built up into a kind of mental spiral that Tana really didn't want to think about.

But it was all she could think about. She had been one of the few to escape the morning's battle unharmed, but that just left her open to thinking. She had the utmost respect for Seth, but the Silver Knight wasn't much of a conversationalist. She looked over at him and knew by his expression that he had his own worries.

Seth felt Tana's gaze but didn't meet it. He was tired. It was a hard thing to recognize and an even harder one to acknowledge, but it was there. He could almost feel himself slumping forward in the saddle; the duty-bound paladin in him expressly forbade it, so he sat up straighter.

His thoughts were now split in three. One third still lingered on rescuing Princess Eirika, though he kept trying to convince himself to believe that she could handle whatever situation she might be in. The other two thirds of his attention were on two of the occupants of the supply convoy.

He did meet Tana's eyes then, but she had already gone back to staring straight ahead. He wished he had the clarity that she seemed to have right then, and not the confusion and weight that was threatening to take him over.

Tana stared straight ahead now, focusing on the ground before them, trying very hard to stay awake. The only people who had slept were those riding in the convoy, and they were still riding. She desperately wanted to join them, even if she could only sleep for an hour.

She thought it was strange, too, that it was she and not her brother who had sort of taken control of things. Innes was forever worrying about her, especially during battles, but he'd said nothing in protest to any of her half-orders. She sighed, shaking her head. She wasn't in any mood to analyze her brother, either.

She glanced back at the convoy cart, letting the feeling of deep sadness pass before looking away. So much had gone _wrong_. They were supposed to defeat Valter and then return to Renais all together, to claim victory. Every hour that passed seemed to take them farther away from that goal. Tana didn't know if she could stand to lose anyone else.

Seth didn't, either.

* * *

When she finally came to a stop, Eirika held still for several long minutes, afraid any movement would start her sliding again. Thankfully, the drop had quickly resolved into a steep and twisting slide—better than falling straight down, but it made her feel like she might lose what little she'd eaten.

Getting control of her stomach back, Eirika shifted a little, relieved when she didn't start moving again. Reaching out a hand, she couldn't feel anything immediately in front of her, but there were rough stone walls close by on both sides. She tried to stand and immediately fell back down, ears ringing and head pounding. The ceiling, also made of solid rock, was barely inches above her head.

_You were foolish to try that without checking first_, she scolded herself, rubbing the top of her head. _The situation is bad enough as it is. Don't make it worse_.

Squinting into the darkness, she could just make out a vertical line of light about two feet in front of her. It reached from floor to ceiling of the small space she was in, and if she listened carefully she could hear noises coming from the same direction as the light.

She crawled toward it, one hand in front of her to let her know when she hit the wall with the crack. It gave against her hand, and she pulled it back quickly. A search of the corners revealed two sets of hinges on each side.

_It isn't a wall. It's a set of doors. Small doors, too. There are people out there…and the door gave. It opens, it isn't locked._

Eirika's breath caught in her throat. One of those voices she recognized. _Riev_. _If he finds me here…_ She didn't let herself finish the thought. As quietly as she could, she backed away from the door, crouching back by the end of the slide. Sitting like that set her side on fire, but she didn't want to risk making any noise.

After about an hour, she no longer heard Riev's voice. Still trying not to make any noise—the other voices were still there—she shifted herself so she was sitting, leaning back against the bottom of the slide. She stretched her legs out, and her feet barely touched the doors.

Soon she started to smell food. She sat up suddenly and very nearly knocked herself out on the low ceiling. Closing her eyes—dizzying dark was worse than just dark—she smiled to herself.

_The light through the doors is coming from the kitchen! Riev must have been eating…I will have to talk with Ephraim about this, though. His secret exit ending at the kitchen is entirely unfair._

She almost laughed at her own thoughts. Attributing them to hitting her head twice on solid stone, she opened her eyes again as the voices grew louder. If this really was a kitchen cabinet, she realized, then it was that much more likely that someone would open it and find her.

She could do little besides pull her feet away from the doors again and wait. It was still morning, and if the kitchen now was anything like the kitchen she'd known, it wouldn't be empty until nightfall at the earliest.

Thoughts of Seth and the others assaulted her as her mind started to wonder. Had Riev been telling the truth about Ewan and Forde?

_He can't have been. There's no way…Forde is one of our best! He couldn't fall, even to a Maelduin…and Ewan…Saleh would have protected him. Everyone would have. No monsters have ever stopped us before. They have Ephraim to help them, they're not leaderless. Riev has to be lying to me._

Her eyes widened, there in the darkness, as she argued desperately with herself. _…But if it was true…how could he know so specifically? He couldn't just guess on what they looked like…it would be too risky. He has to know…he has to have seen. …Ewan, Forde…_

The worst part was being able to see it all so clearly in her mind. She wasn't too familiar with Maelduin, but Lute had mentioned them being some sort of larger, stronger cousin of the Tarvos. She didn't know why she was recalling Lute so clearly, either. But she could certainly picture a very large, axe-wielding Tarvos—several of them—charging toward her army.

She shuddered, trying not to think about it. There was little else to think about in the dark, but she gave it her best effort. After a while, she decided she needed a more detailed plan for after she escaped the kitchen.

If she escaped the kitchen.

* * *

Rennac was not happy. Granted, he was still in one piece and nothing hurt all that much, which was more than just about anyone else could say. He was grateful for that. He also wasn't walking anymore; everyone without a mount was now sharing one with someone else. This was the source of his unhappiness.

Someone had had the remarkable idea of having him ride with L'Arachel. He swore yet again that if he ever really found out who that someone was, they would learn why it was a very bad idea.

L'Arachel was talking about something, he realized. Possibly she was still yelling at Innes, who was close enough to hear her but too far away to do anything about it. Rennac was relieved to no longer be the object of her frustration, but the twinges of sympathy he kept feeling for Innes were unnerving.

"The village!" came Neimi's excited cry from above. Tana's Pegasus swooped low over their heads, and Rennac ducked out of reflex. He could hear Innes snickering at him for it. He decided to pay the prince back as soon as he had the chance.

They rode faster, Rennac holding onto L'Arachel for dear life. He caught this about three seconds later and abruptly let go, resolving to stay on by balance alone instead.

It was Cormag and Artur, high in the air on Genarog, who reached the village first. They looked at each other, caught somewhere between disbelief and resignation. Cormag got down off his wyvern and walked closer, unable to really believe it until he touched the broken, charred wall of a house for himself.

The village was in ruins. There were no people, no homes, no shelter. No place for rest or food. There weren't even people to throw them out.

Seth and Innes caught up next, reacting in similar ways. As Tana landed, Seth turned to her with a grave look on his face.

"Turn them around," he said quietly. "We'll need to find somewhere else."

"Quickly," added Franz, who had come up behind them looking crestfallen. Cormag felt sympathy for the young cavalier, especially after what had happened to his brother. It couldn't have been much easier on him having to ride with Garcia, who was an excellent fighter but not much of one for consolation.

"I don't even know where we are," Tana mused quietly. "Are we even headed in the right direction?" She sounded hopeless.

"That'd depend on where you're going," said a rough voice. A tall man in worn clothing stepped out from the shell of one of the houses, giving them an appraising look. "And who you are."

His eyes swept over Seth once, then came back to him and widened considerably. "The Silver Knight," he whispered, more to himself than any of them. Seth just nodded. "My apologies! I'd heard…the rumors say that all of the soldiers of Renais were killed, even the great Silver Knight."

"The rumors are untrue," Seth replied evenly.

"That's apparent. Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, stepping farther forward and speaking in a friendlier tone.

"We'd love to know where we are right now. And where the nearest village is," Franz added quickly. "We're headed for the castle—" Seth's glance silenced him before he could continue, and Tana looked at him apologetically.

"Toward the castle, huh? Nearest village is about two hours' fast ride west of here, if you want to stay in that kind of direction."

"Right now the direction matters little," Seth replied. The man thought for a long moment, then nodded.

"Still to the west, then. They'll recognize you, they should let you in soon as they see you." Seth nodded, signaling to Franz and Cormag to go tell the others. With another nod to the man, he turned and rode away.

"Thank you," Tana said with a dark frown in Seth's direction. "You have no idea how much help you've been."

"Happy to be any help at all," he replied with a wave. She waved back, then took to the sky again.

Cormag glanced back at Artur as they turned westward. "Not airsick, are you?"

"Not yet," Artur replied shakily. He'd just gotten over being afraid to look down when they had landed, and now he had to start all over again. "You're certain Genarog doesn't mind?"

"If he minded, you'd know it." Cormag grinned, which only made Artur more apprehensive. "Besides, he seems to like you."

"I can't imagine why," Artur mumbled, trying desperately not to look down.

Cormag though of replying with something like 'neither can I,' but another look back at the monk told him he probably shouldn't. "You think you can stand two hours of flying?"

"Oh, yes," was the optimistic reply, and Cormag shook his head. "I just have to get it in my head that Genarog would catch me if I fell off." There was a definite implied question in his cheerful statement. Cormag just laughed, and he heard Artur groan.

Amelia watched them for a while, thinking of all the other wyvern riders she'd been acquainted with as a recruit in Grado's army. None of them were quite like Cormag, and no one could have rivaled his brother, General Glen. She was pleased to find that these thoughts no longer made her homesick for Grado, just for her family.

She was also pleased to be back on her horse again, even if she was tired and sore and had to share with Gerik. He rode behind her, with his hands lightly on her waist. He had surprised the young cavalier by being completely comfortable on horseback.

"Not holding too tight, am I?" he asked amicably; she could hear the smile in his voice. "I hate to say it, but we can't exactly afford anyone falling off a horse."

"No, it's fine," she replied, turning to give him a smile in return. "I'm just glad to be riding. The fresh air is a nice change."

"Must be. You're sure you're alright to ride?"

"You show a lot of concern for someone who isn't part of your mercenary band, you know," said Tethys' musical voice from somewhere behind them. Amelia felt Gerik turn, and she imagined he was giving the dancer some kind of look.

"We're all part of the same band now, Tethys." All of them turned to look at Marisa, who was sharing Forde's empty horse with an unarmored—and unhappy—Gilliam. She said nothing else, though, simply turning her attention to the road again.

"She's something else," Gerik mused aloud, and Amelia smiled to herself.

"Is it exciting, being the leader of mercenaries?" she asked when he'd had sufficient time to dwell on the thought of Marisa. Gerik, hearing this only vaguely, snapped himself out of it and went over the question in his head.

"Well…it comes and goes, in a way. Joining up with Prince Innes and Princess Eirika has probably been the most exciting thing to happen in a long time." He shook his head, remembering. "Innes is a very lucky man, to have found friends in those two."

Amelia just nodded, looking up at Cormag and his wyvern again. She recognized that she was making a very pointed attempt at keeping her mind off the time this was taking, and the reason they had to rush. She did glance back once at the convoy, but she looked away quickly.

Gerik looked at Marisa and Gilliam again. As far as he could tell, the general consensus had been that they should ride together because the silence would be what each of them most wanted. Looking ahead, he tried to puzzle out what had landed Rennac with L'Arachel. After several long minutes, he concluded that the rogue was just plain unlucky.

* * *

Eirika didn't dare move, though she thought the hungry growls coming from her stomach should have been enough to give her away by now. She hadn't eaten since the day before, and the constant delicious smells coming in through the door were almost too much to resist.

As far as she could tell, no one had come near the cabinet all day, though she had braced her feet against it again upon realizing that the doors would open inward. Anyone who tried would think it locked, and hopefully stop trying. It was going to be agonizing to wait for dark, especially with food so very close by, but she knew that trying to escape any other time would only invite trouble.

_Still_, she thought, _some kind of kitchen break or something would be _great_ right about now…if only to give me time to get something to eat…_

A distant bell sounded. There was a sudden intensity of noise and movement in the kitchen, and Eirika slowly sat up, moving closer to the crack in the door. After several minutes of deafening noise, the kitchen grew entirely silent.

Eirika was suspicious of this, especially after having just thought that something like this needed to happen. The opposing sides of her mind argued about opening the doors for a while, but in the end she was too hungry and too tired of just waiting. As quietly and slowly as possible, she opened first one door and then the other, relieved when there was no loud creak of the hinges.

She slipped out of the doors and closed them again. So far the kitchen seemed empty. She stood to look around and found no one. She did find a loaf of fresh bread on one of the counters, and she'd eaten half of it before even reaching the half-open kitchen doors.

She peeked out of these, too, looking carefully down first one hall and then the other. No one was nearby, so she slipped out, darting across the wide hall and ducking into the alcove behind a pillar. She finished the loaf of bread and felt better for a moment, before having to lean against the pillar to support herself as pain shot through her side.

_You're going to have to ignore this. Getting anywhere in here without being noticed is going to take speed and silence. Just pretend it doesn't hurt anymore_. Telling herself that didn't seem to be working all too well, but she couldn't think of anything else to do.

She did know where she needed to go. There were several exits to the castle itself, not counting the front doors, and it was highly unlikely that Valter had guards at all of them. Steeling herself, she ran as fast as she could down the hall, stopping and peering around the corner first before continuing. There was no one in this direction, either, and she assumed it must be lunch.

Still, not even Valter was arrogant enough—though Riev might be—to have every last one of his guards and soldiers eating at the same time. She moved from hall to corridor to hall in short sprints, and with long breaks when the pain from her ribs became too much to stand. She found herself near an open window, and the soft breeze blowing in was refreshing, but the angle of the sun reminded her that soon lunch would be ending and the halls would be full once again.

She froze at the sound of hard, heavy footsteps approaching. Turning a corner, she saw the shadow of a pointed helmet on the carpeting at the end of the hall, and as quietly as possible she went through the nearest doors, closing them behind her.

She pulled the locking bar down across the door, then frowned at it. Very few doors in the castle had bar locks anymore. Slowly turning around, her eyes met a literal wall of books. She let out a soft sigh of relief. It was the castle library.

No one would be here, especially not with the castle occupied, and at this time of day. Still, she went in silence around the rows of books, trying to orient herself without stepping into the open center area of the library. When she finally worked out where she was, she hurried though the bookshelves until she reached a small, rough staircase. It was meant for servants, but it led up to the other three levels of the library.

Slowly and breathlessly, she climbed the stairs to the third level, ducking behind a bookshelf as soon as she could and making her way around the perimeter of the floor. There had once been a librarian in the castle, she recalled, though her faint memories of the tall, thin man were centered around the ages of five and six. Somewhere on the third level was his old workroom.

She looked at the door. It locked from the inside, and it needed a key. She gave the door an experimental push. It opened with a loud squeal, and she grabbed the knob before it could let loose any more noise. Slipping in, she shut the door behind her, eliciting the same rusty screech, and turned the lock. When she heard no voices or footsteps drawn to the sound, she sighed in relief and turned to survey the room.

It was small, about twelve feet by twelve feet, and bookshelves full of books in disrepair lined one wall. There was a sturdy table with drawers and a chair; a lamp was on the table, and another hung under the window. On the other side of the room was a smaller, round table draped with a faded cloth, and against the far wall was a small, worn, patched sofa.

Eirika sat on this, surprised at how comfortable it was. It didn't look so, with the feathers that stuffed it falling out in places and one of the pillows missing. It was softer than the stone she'd spent most of the morning on, though, and she found herself dozing off. Jolting awake again, she looked at the door.

Valter probably didn't even know this place existed, and the stone door was locked. She hadn't lit either of the lamps, so there was no light to give her away. Overall she felt safe here, though she knew it was a false feeling. No place in this castle was safe now.

She lay back down on the couch again, staring at the low stone ceiling in the dim light. She wondered where Seth and the rest of her army were, if Riev had been telling the truth. She worried for Ephraim—when last she'd seen him, he had been impaled on Valter's lance—and now she feared for Forde and Ewan, too.

She felt herself drifting off again, her half-asleep mind assuring the rest of her that her army could take care of itself, and she would just have to trust in that.

* * *

The cart jolted over a bump in the road, and the back of Saleh's head smacked into the wall. He lazily opened one eye, still dozing for a precious few seconds before he remembered he shouldn't be.

He opened both eyes and shook his head to clear it. It was getting to be quite warm; that and the motion of the cart must have lulled him to sleep. He was just as tired as the rest of them, with the exceptions of Seth, who never seemed to tire, and Ephraim, who had slept.

He was sitting against the front wall of the convoy, staring out the half-open back. Beside him, between he and the wall, was Ewan. Saleh looked down at his student with worry he usually kept hidden; the boy hadn't moved. He was still noticeably pale and very, very still.

Saleh closed his eyes, remembering the early morning's battle. Ewan had certainly held his own against the onslaught, but an unexpected blast of dark magic from one of the Mogalls had thrown him. Saleh had been occupied with his own enemies for the next several minutes, but when he looked again Ewan had an arrow in his left arm and was casting a thunder spell. The axe-wielding Maelduin that he was aiming at stopped short of the spell and reared up on its back legs. One of its flailing front legs had caught Ewan in the head, and the boy had dropped to the ground instantly.

Saleh couldn't remember the next few minutes, either, though he had the general sense of casting some kind of immensely powerful spell. His next clear memory was of gently lifting his student from the ground and carrying him back to the convoy.

He looked around at the rest of them, thinking it was quite crowded in there now. Colm sat near the back, staring out at the road disappearing behind them. Ross sat, too, looking defiant and stubborn, as he usually did. Joshua was sitting against one side, with Natasha beside him, asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Kyle was a few feet away, sitting with his back to Saleh. His attention seemed focused inward, something to which Saleh felt he could relate. Ephraim, too, was lost somewhere in his own mind, and hadn't spoken since early that morning. Shaking himself from these thoughts, the sage looked down at Ewan again.

"You're worried." Ephraim's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence that had filled the cart. Saleh met his eyes and found himself staring into an intensity that mirrored Eirika's almost exactly. It struck Saleh that he'd begun a conversation with Seth this way the night before.

"So I am," he answered just as quietly. "But there isn't much that can be done at the moment."

"We'll reach a town soon," Ephraim said, though he seemed to be trying to convince himself more than Saleh. The sage considered whether or not he should say anything to this. Ephraim stopped him before he could try.

"My sister…you're her army, not mine. She…somehow she got all of you to take up the cause. I don't know how she did it, and I don't know that _I_ could have done the same in her place. …She trusts you, doesn't she?"

"Me personally? I imagine she does."

"Yes, you, but not just you. Everyone. Her army." Ephraim gestured to encompass everyone.

"With the possible exception of Rennac, yes," Saleh said with a halfhearted smile. "Why?"

"I was in Grado. I…Grado attacked Renais, so I…I had to find out what they wanted, what made Emperor Vigarde change his mind. I had to…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "When I found out Eirika was in Jehanna, I raced to catch up with her. With all of you, because I also heard she had a whole horde of people traveling with her.

"I was going to tell her—tried to, there in the sands around Jehanna Hall—what I had found out about Grado, about Vigarde, and about the Sacred Stones. But we got…sidetracked. I assume that once she knew…she would have told all of you. Or at least some of you."

"Do _you_ trust us with this?"

"If Eirika would have…then I do. Someone has to know, because all of this needs to stop."

Ephraim moved closer to Saleh and began to talk very quietly. He would have preferred it if Kyle had listened, too, but the cavalier seemed preoccupied.

Kyle was watching Forde. He didn't see much purpose in it, and the way he was sitting was making his injured leg alternately throb and go numb, but he felt responsible. They had argued, Forde had ridden away instead of continuing the chain of insults, and now…

"The argument was pointless," Kyle said to no one. He was shocked when a quiet, strained voice answered him.

"Yeah. Thought so, too." Forde was squinting up at him from where he lay on his stomach on the floor of the cart.

"Forde! You don't have to say any—"

"I do. Stop looking like that. You're making _me_ worry." Forde laughed as best he could, but this only deepened Kyle's frown. "C'mon. Can't be that bad." When Kyle didn't answer, Forde's smile faded a little. "Kyle." Kyle flinched.

"It…it is," he muttered quietly, shaking his head. "Forde, listen, I—"

"Nobody died, right?" was the quiet interruption.

"No, of course not."

"See? Not that bad." Forde's smile widened again, though his voice grew weaker. "Stop trying to apologize. I think I owe you one…so let's call us even." Forde laughed to himself as Kyle sighed. "What got you?" Kyle noticed that Forde was looking at his leg.

"I was careless."

"Too serious. Always were."

Before Kyle could say anything else, the cart stopped. This also brought a stop to Saleh and Ephraim's quiet conversation; the prince made his way to the back of the cart as Vanessa and Lute landed behind it.

"What's going on?" Ephraim asked, and Vanessa gave him a tired look.

"We've arrived at the town Seth mentioned. He and Tana and Innes are trying to convince them to let us in." Vanessa sighed. Ephraim noted with interest how she dropped formal titles when she was tired.

He thought for as long a moment as he thought he should allow himself, then pushed the back of the cart open all the way. "Let me see your lance."

"What?" Vanessa had obviously been lost in her own thoughts; Lute had been watching with trepidation as a dragonfly buzzed along. Ephraim swung his legs over the back of the cart and held out his hand.

"Your lance." When Vanessa hesitated, he sighed. "What could convince the people of Renais better than their missing Prince?" He had to smile at the feel of a lance in his hands. Steadying the blunt end on the ground, he hopped off the back of the cart.

"I can think of no other way to demonstrate how much we are in need of assistance," Seth said flatly to the gathering of people at the entrance to the town. "We carry with us the Crown Prince of Renais."

"You are his subjects," Tana added, almost pleading. "Help his army."

"We truly want to believe you," answered one woman. "And you," she continued, looking at Seth, "you _are_ the Silver Knight. But we have heard that Prince Ephraim lies dead in Grado. Two of Emperor Vigarde's most trusted are in command of the castle; we cannot afford to harbor you."

"Emperor Vigarde is dead." Everyone, even Seth and Tana, turned toward the sound of that voice. Leaning heavily on his borrowed lance, Ephraim walked slowly up to stand beside Seth's horse. "I'm not."

"Prince Ephraim!" was the collective gasp from the townspeople. Almost immediately a path was made through the crowd. Ephraim nodded, and Seth rode forward. Tana followed him, and Ephraim chose to walk beside her.

"What possessed you?" she hissed. Ephraim smiled up at her.

"It was the only thing that made sense." He was breathing hard and it hurt to walk like this, but he was walking. "After all, you weren't getting anywhere on your own."

Tana considered pouting about this, but under the circumstances it didn't seem worth it. Ephraim continued walking, and so did Achaeus, but Tana was suddenly very must stopped.

"Emperor Vigarde…is dead?" she asked, stunned.

"_That_ is going to take a bit more explaining." Ephraim shook his head. "Before I relate that long tale again, we need to find a place where everyone in that convoy can rest, and then we need to find an armory."

"Can food come before the armory?" asked a weary Amelia. Ephraim looked back at her; she was grinning.

"By all means."

* * *

When Eirika woke again, she was ravenously hungry and there was no light coming in through the window. It took her a few minutes to orient herself again, but once she did she got up off the small sofa and listened. She heard no noise, but that didn't mean there were no people.

Dim starlight filled the room with hazy grey, but it let her find the door. She turned the lock and slipped out, the rusty creak echoing even more in the night than it had in the day. She hurried down the flights of stairs and to the library's least-used entrance. She hesitated before lifting the bar to unlock it—there would probably be guards in the hall—but knew she had to find some food and something to drink or she wouldn't have the strength to do anything else.

She lifted the lock and opened the door barely a crack, scanning the lamp-lit hall. She couldn't see anyone, so she stepped out, closing the door behind her. Her stomach dropped when she heard the bar fall back into place.

She crept along the halls, occasionally happening upon a sleeping guard, or, more often, one who was embarrassingly drunk. Still others were awake and alert, and she never turned down their halls. It would be a longer trip to the kitchen, but she could still get there.

She was completely surprised when something hit her in the back of the head. She sprawled forward, ribs burning, as a sickeningly familiar laugh sounded behind her.

"And you thought we wouldn't notice your absence, dear Eirika?" Valter asked. Eirika looked up at him, particularly at the ugly gash crossing his eye. She knew it wasn't what she should feel, but she was quite proud of having given that to him.

Again her silence enraged him more than words ever could. "We shall simply have to find you a place from which it is far harder to escape." Rough hands lifted her and half-dragged her down halls and down stairs.

The impact on the rough stone floor of the dungeon cell—Renais Castle had only one, and King Fado had been opposed to even that—set her side on fire again. Valter laughed his usual cackle, and the door closed with a clang behind him.

As soon as she thought she could, Eirika drew herself to her knees.

"I apologize for what he does." Eirika stiffened at the voice, at its familiarity, from her past and from the past few days. "He's been corrupted by something he cannot control."

Slowly, Eirika turned. Standing on the other side of the cell, outside the bars, was a face she hadn't thought to see again.

"Lyon?"

He smiled. "Hello, Eirika."

* * *

Your thoughts? I think it's going rather well, actually...


End file.
